The Student Of Merlin
by SeraphZero
Summary: AU Merlin has always been the greatest wizard in history. However, he never taught his magic to anyone else he buried his power along with his name. But what if he found the perfect student to teach? And what if it was Harry Potter?
1. Chapter01:revised:Requiem for a Dream

insert disclaimer HERE

Merlin has always been the greatest wizard in history. However, he never taught his magic to anyone else; he buried his power along with his name. But what if he found the perfect student to teach? And what it was little Harry Potter?

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The Student of Merlin By SeraphZero

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Chapter 1: Requiem for a Dream

"History is the sum total of things that might have been avoided"  
-Konrad Adenaur

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Many wizards believe that Merlin himself was not actually a wizard, but a being of magic altogether. To this day, magic folk believe that he is alive, somewhere. Maybe in a different plane, a different reality, a different means of existence. The reason why is evident in his history.

Ancient texts speak of Merlin as a higher order. He lived in an era of magic that was beyond the present; one where elemental magic, mind manipulation, summoning and necromancy were easily accessible to the wizards of yore. However, as the people multiplied, the powers grew dimmer; they became tame for the sake of the entire magical community. After all, no good parent in the world would want their child summoning dragons or incinerating rugs with a mere thought.

Merlin, however, could do all these things. His very existence was placed backwards; his mind operated on the other side of the stream of time. He knew of the future before the past; he was ageless and wise on so many levels. He bypassed the concept of 'wizard' and existed as a 'demigod'.

However, the legendary wizard never had an heir, or a pupil, or even a son. When the time came, he buried himself in an ageless cave with his wife, Nimue. Although he was content with his near-isolation, the old wounds in his heart flared as he thought of his surrogate son.

A man whom all of England knew as Arthur Pendragon, the once and future king.

The old wizard sighed before performing an age-reversing spell on himself and his love. No matter how powerful magic became, it would never be enough to bring back the deceased. The pain of raising, caring, and loving a child so much that his death would force you into hermithood was too much to bear for the legendary master of the magical arts. It was the sole reason why he refused to have a child with his beloved wife; the pain, he felt, would be to much to bear. Nimue looked at the wizard in confusion.

"Why don't you just use the age-reverse spell on the child, as you have used on us so many times?" she once asked him.

Merlin would have laughed if he weren't so depressed. "A regular wizard would not even be able to cast it on himself. With all my power, I am only capable of performing it on myself and one other person besides myself. Please, don't make me choose between you and our child."

Nimue nodded in understanding. "But why not teach it to him, then?"

Again, the ageless wizard sighed. "Just because he is my son does not mean he will be as powerful as I. Only a child of extraordinary magical skill could use the ancient magic...and magical strength does not necessarily hinge on bloodline."

The ageless woman nodded once again, accepting his answers. Somber, she let him wallow in his self-pity, preparing to cook the nightly dinner.

A single solitary tear slid down the wizard's face as the thoughts of never having an heir re-entered his thoughts. That is, until he heard something explode in his mind.

FLASH!

"Lily! Take Harry and run!"

The ancient magician did not complain about the sudden, loud shouting that he heard in his mind. As a matter of fact, he was quite interested in the scenes that were unfolding in his mind. Closing his eyes, Merlin let the images roll through his head.

What he saw was horrifying enough to make him shudder, even after living for hundreds of years.

He saw a brave young man with glasses being struck down by a curse that he, Merlin, was very familiar with. The killing curse, Avada Kedavra. Although what surprised the timeless mage the most was why the man didn't try to block it. Still, the now-young Merlin watched onward.

He witnessed the horrible, unspeakable evil of some wizard named Voldemort, whose soul was bound by a chasis spell that gave him near-immortality. Although Merlin was not terribly impressed with his power, he had to admit that this 'Voldemort' fellow was still a formidable foe.

The master of magic felt pity for the poor woman with red hair, who ran through the night in a vain attempt to protect a small bundle in her arms. The wizard sensed that the woman was carrying a baby.

Knowing this made the following scene even more tragic for Merlin. He watched as the young woman died protecting her son, her love surrounding the bundled-up child. He saw the evil wizard approach the little boy, whom Merlin deduced as Haarry. And before it happened, he realized why he was seeing these visions.

Quickly, he moved toward the entrance of the cave. His wife was still busy, he remembered. He still had plenty of time to do what he was about to do.

And for the first time in hundreds of years, the legendary Merlin teleported himself out of his self-imposed prison.

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Little Harry Potter cried all through the night. The terrible lightning-shaped scar was still smoldering on his head. The child was alone, cold, and hurt. However, he was also blinded by the brilliant light that flashed in his eyes.

To this, he continued to cry.

Merlin appeared from the light, his long blue robes billowing in the night air. His features were content; the now-young wizard smiled as he realized what the scar on the baby's face meant. He picked up the bundled-up child and said a few words under his breath. The baby immediately stopped crying, asleep in the arms of the legendary wizard.

Before Merlin could leave, however, a half-giant came running after him.

"Get back 'ere, ya baby-snatchin' weasel!"

The wizard turned to face the large, burly man. Although he was unarmed, his beetle-black eyes conveyed a look of malice and contempt that would have scared an ordinary person.

Merlin, however, was not ordinary. He turned away from the half-giant, his voice and demeanor steady as he spoke.

"If you care for this child's well-being at all, you will let me take him."

The burly man was preparing to lunge after the wizard, intent on taking back the Boy Who Lived. "Oh yeah? An' who 'er you!"

"I am Merlin." With that, he disappeared in a blazing flash of light, leaving behind a very shocked Rubeus Hagrid.

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"Merlin! You finally left the cave!"

Nimue rushed to meet her husband as he teleported back into the cave that he called home. In his hands was the bundle, which drew Nimue's attention the most. "What did you bring back with you?"

Merlin quickly drew his wife into a quick kiss. "You know how we've always wanted a child?"

His wife nodded her head slowly. "Of course I do...well, did..."

The ageless wizard smiled, unwrapping the bundle and presenting her the little baby he held in his hands. "Congratulations. His name is Harry Potter."

Needless to say, Nimue fainted.

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NEXT TIME: Variations of a Theme

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Author's Notes:

REVISED EDITION

Ok, so the whole Harry-Merlin thing has been done before. Big deal! I plan to make this ten, no, a hundred times better! Why? Because I say so! Meh-heh-heh!

Seriously, I was just disappointed with how most of the Harry-Merlin fics were written. I mean, it may be my taste, but I just felt like writing a story that had a super-powerful Harry whose personality contrasted the one in my "Harry, Son of Hagrid" fic. I wanted a super-powerful Harry that would have an easier time at Hogwarts but still have reason to fear Voldemort. I wanted a story with substance and character instead of another "Perfect Harry Potter" story (I love the kid too much to make him a Mary-Sue). Most importantly, a story where Merlin is actually Merlin, not some preconceived notion that he's the wizard of all wizards. He may have the power, but the legends and stories about him don't make him out to be perfect. Even Dumbledore has his faults (however rare they are).

As for Merlin, I combined numerous Merlin resources I had to form him. A bunch of films and TV-related media, a few books, and several other sources contributed to his creation. Kudos to Geoffrey of Monmouth for creating him in the first place.

As always, the more you review, the more I write.

E-Mail: AIM: SeraphZero00

Peace. - SeraphZero 


	2. Chapter02:revised:Variations of a Theme

insert disclaimer HERE

Merlin has always been the greatest wizard in history. However, he never taught his magic to anyone else; he buried his power along with his name. But what if he found the perfect student to teach? And what it was little Harry Potter?

-----

The Student of Merlin By SeraphZero

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Chapter 2: Variations of a Theme

"A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step"  
- Lao Tzu

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"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE WAS TAKEN!"

Very rarely has Albus Dumbledore been angry. Normally, the old wizard was wise enough to predict the outcome of events, including the fall of Voldemort at the hands of little Harry Potter. However, the turn of events described by Hagrid was more than unexpected. For a peaceful wizard like Albus, his anger could only stem from some inhumane deed committed by Voldemort or his Death Eaters. However, this time he misplaced his rage on one of his oldest friends.

Hagrid was taken back by Dumbledore's uncharacteristic outburst. He had just arrived at Privet Drive on a flying motorcycle that he borrowed from Sirius Black. He came only to deliver the bad news to Dumbledore and McGonagall, as Hagrid could not accomplish his previous task of retrieving Harry. He was slightly afraid; after all, if the Headmaster of Hogwarts was shocked by the news, then it must have been bad. VERY bad.

"I was sayin' that lil' Harry was taken. Somebody who said he was Merlin 'imself!"

Dumbledore did not even flinch under the burly man's outrageous testimony. His blue eyes did not twinkle; his eyelids were heavy as he sighed. "By the gods, I hope little Harry was not taken by a Death Eater..."

Hagrid was becoming irritated. "I said that tha' wizard said he was Merlin! Maybe it was 'im, Dumbledore, sir!"

Professor McGonagall turned to the gamekeeper of Hogwarts, a look of sadness on her face. "That's perposterous, Hagrid. You know that Merlin couldn't have done this."

The half-giant's beetle-black eyes conveyed his honesty. "I'm tellin' ya, sir! It coulda been 'im! I mean, he jus' apparated in an' out like that! An' he had big blue robes an' his eyes were all twinkly, like your's, sir!"

A look of deep thought had appeared on Dumbledore's features. He was always an open-minded man, and the fact that this news was coming from a close friend meant it needed serious observation. His eyes widened in realization as he remembered the legends of Merlin; the great sorceror who was said to have died with his wife in an unknown cave beneath Merlin's Mound (as it is known today). However, the legends also told of how he knew a powerful spell that could restore youth, thus delaying death. The spell could be used numerous times; if Hagrid was right, then the spell did indeed exist and Merlin had indeed been using it to prolong his life after hundreds of years. Still, why would he want Harry...?

The answer struck Dumbledore like a bolt of lightning. If Harry survived the Avada Kedavra, then some of Voldemort's magic must have been transferred to the baby boy. And if the legends about Merlin's final prophecy were true...

Of course, there's still the possibility of the man being nothing more than a Death Eater claiming to be Merlin in order to scare Hagrid, thought Dumbledore.

Breathing heavily, the Headmaster of Hogwarts addressed McGonagall and Hagrid. "We will take our leave. There is nothing else we can do for now."

Professor McGonagall adjusted her spectacles in surprise. "But surely there is something! Maybe if we contacted the Aurors..."

Albus looked at her, his eyes once again twinkling. "On the contrary. I do not think that it will be necessary."

"But what about the papers? This is serious news we have to consider, Albus!"

Dumbledore began to walk off, ready to return to Hogwarts. "We will tell them the truth. Harry defeated Voldemort and is currently under the custody of another wizard."

McGonagall and Hagrid began to follow him, Hagrid bringing the motorcycle along. "But what wizard, sir?" asked Hagrid.

The wizard turned to face his two friends. "For Harry's sake, we will not answer that question. If asked why, we claim that it is for his safety."

And so, the three of them walked off, leaving Privet Drive and returning home. While two of them worried about the future of the Boy Who Lived, Dumbledore just sighed, ready to wait as long as it took for the child to resurface.

-----

Merlin was not only a great wizard, but also a prophet. Existing on the different wavelength of time, the ageless wizard foretold of many things through his visions. He would proclaim of battles won and battles lost, victories and defeats, births and deaths. However, since the death of Arthur, he had forsaken his gift of prophecy, hoping to never again witness the events that make history. But he left his mind open for accepting one more vision and one vision alone: the birth of a child whose power would be enough to rival his.

The logic behind it was simple: this child would possess the magical skill necessary to make himself as ageless as he. That way, Merlin would never fear the consequences of the boy's death; he would be able to pass on all that he knew to the gifted child without worry of emotional loss. No matter how great he may be, Merlin was still human. The feelings of fatherly love he had grown for Arthur caused his old heart to break when he died. In the end, he had chosen to give the gift of youth and agelessness to his wife, whom he entered seclusion with. Now he found his new pupil, whom he knew would be strong enough to live as long as he. It was a selfish desire, but after years of service toward saving England, he felt he deserved it.

It was strange for Merlin to begin teaching Harry. Although the wizard knew how to educate the boy academically and philosophically (since he cared for Arthur as a child), he did not know where to start when it came to training him in magic. He had only taught his magic to one other, the Lady of the Lake. However, she was already gifted in magic, and to this day Merlin regrets it for reasons he'd rather forget about. Still, this was a child he was educating; he knew that if the proper values were placed, he would grow up to be a virtuous man.

He knew how to teach life lessons to a child. Magic, on the other hand, required more finesse...

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Harry was 4 years old when Merlin began to teach him about the concepts of magic in general. He tried to talk to the boy about the elements, the planes, the three constants, and how it all worked together in the universe. Harry, being a normal 4 year old boy, didn't understand any of it. As a matter of fact, he fell asleep halfway through his teacher's lecture. This frustrated Merlin to no end, yet it strengthened his resolve as well.

Still, the wizard had learned a great deal about patience in his lifetime. In order to make him understand, the great wizard made Harry perform magical tasks.

"Ok, Harry, I want you to point your finger at the candle, close your eyes, and think very hard about fire. Picture fire in your mind; imagine it as best as you can. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded enthusiatically, ready to appease his mentor. He did as he was told, thinking as hard as he could about fire. He thought about the heat, the reddish-yellow color that made it, and how it seemed to dance in the darkness of his home...

Merlin jumped in surprise as the entire candle was set ablaze. The burning wax fell to the rocky ground of the cave like a miniature meteor. Eventually, a few of the decorations that Merlin and Nimue had set up in the cave began to ignite as well. Frantically, Merlin began casting water spells to put out the flames, yelling at Harry to stop thinking.

Nimue entered the room to see what all the commotion was about. She became enraged at her husband, the greatest wizard in the entire world, for letting a little boy nearly burn down their home.

Harry hung his head low, expecting to be punished for nearly burning down their cave. Merlin, on the other hand, was quite happy once he put out all the fires.

He beamed at his student, eyes glittering with pride and content. "I'm very proud of you, Harry! You did it! You used magic!"

Unfortunately for him, his wife didn't think so. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU LET A CHILD PLAY WITH FIRE! OF ALL THE IRRESPONSIBLE..."

Harry giggled as Merlin tried to avoid the wrath of his wife.

-----

The cave, despite being a cave, was quite a nice home. It was hidden under Merlin's Mound, which recently became a tourist attraction due to the mythos behind it. The formation was carefully guarded by ancient magic seals that made it invisible to the wizarding community. There were no doors, since Merlin didn't want anyone to enter the hidden cave. The only entrance was sealed by a large boulder that Merlin conjured up. Luckily, there were plenty of air holes within the rock formation that let in an abundance of sunlight as well, giving numerous plants the opportunity to thrive at the edges of the cave. Although the walls and floors were stone, the space within the cave was quite large and luxurious. The walls were decorated with various ornaments that Merlin had created, while a soft velvet rug covered the living room ground. Bookshelves adorned the cozy home, filled with numerous books on magic, history, folk lore, and general knowledge. There were beds as well; nice, big, fluffy beds that little Harry loved to jump on when his mentor wasn't watching. Merlin always wondered why the springs of the beds kept on breaking since he transfigured them out of rocks.

The most impressive addition, however, was a kitchen. Merlin, being a man who lived from future to past, knew of the wonderful delights that technology had created. However, he felt there was no need for them until Harry came along. In order to present his pupil with as much knowledge as he could, the prophet conjured up several inventions of the 20th century. Although he was able to create a television, a radio, and several other common household items, Merlin rarely used them himself as a habit, letting Harry do what he wanted with the strange contraptions. On the other hand, his wife found the modern way of cooking to be quite useful; even though Merlin could easily create food with a wave of his hand, Nimue still wanted to cook with the interesting cookware of the modern world. Besides, there weren't a lot of things one could do in a cave. Often, the rotating of food in a microwave entertained the ageless woman for hours, leaving the rest of the family with overcooked dinners.

Every night, Merlin would conjure up various images of the present world for his pupil. Harry learned all he could about the places outside of the cave; he became smarter when it came to life despite being sheltered from most of it. However, Harry's academic processes were incredible; living in an environment of constant learning gave the boy a natural ability for reading, writing, thinking, adapting, and improvising quickly. He grew up to be a scholarly child, superior than a normal child in knowledge and thought.

Merlin enjoyed helping Harry's mind grow. Using the same "lessons" that he taught to a young boy named Arthur, the ageless master of magic trasformed his student into various animals in order to teach him about life. Everything from squirrels to fish, Harry was transformed into the woodland creatures that inhabited the forest surrounding Merlin's Mound. Even when it came to the birds and the bees, Harry had to become a bird and a bee in order to understand it all (saving Merlin many of hours of embarassing lectures). With Merlin to guide him, the Boy Who Lived grew in maturity, learning about the joys and pains of life through the eyes of other animals. Many of his philosophies of the world stemmed from these experiences; each tranformation helped Harry learn more about the world despite experiencing it as another species.

What most impressed Merlin was Harry's magic. Except for the incident involving fire, Harry became an exceptional wizard under Merlin's standards. The ancient wizard tutored the young raven-haired boy in the ancient magics of his time. Harry became accustomed to chanting spells at a young age; later, he became powerful enough to perform basic magical tasks with hand gestures. Harry became proficient in spells and charms that every modern-day wizard knew, most of which he mastered at a young age. He was still a child, though; although Merlin's tutelage was the greatest of all time, Harry was still too young to achieve the same demigod-like status of his teacher.

The magic Harry had the most difficulty with was Merlin's ancient arts. Elemental spells were a favorite of Harry's; lighting things on fire provided hours of entertainment for the boy (while it was his teacher who received the wrath of Nimue). Although he couldn't create blazing hailstorms of sulfur and brimstone, the Boy Who Lived was quite good at making hand-size balls of fire and strands of electricity. Manipulating nature came more easily to the boy; making flowers grow and vines move came quickly to the young wizard. Mind magic was just as fun for the child; Harry nearly drove his surrogate mother to the brink of insanity when he learned how to cast levitation spells with his thoughts (to this day, she's still looking for her favorite aquamarine necklace). Merlin also devulged his secret arts of conjuring to his pupil; however, the boy usually conjured only half of things (which freaked Harry out when he tried to create a frog), forcing him to master transfiguration instead. Although he was still too inexperienced and young to use his abilities perfectly, Merlin told him that as he grew and practiced, his powers would grow as well. When the time came, the legendary sorceror tried his best to show the Boy Who Lived how to summon spirits and beasts.

-----

Harry was 9 when Merlin told him about summoning spirits and beasts. "You see, Harry, all creatures and spirits exist on a singular wavelength. This wave, you see, is known as the spark of life. Even spirits are alive, to some extent; otherwise they would be on the other side of existence instead of here."

Harry nodded in understanding. Although he was quite young, living in an environment of constant education made him quite mature. Even though he loved to have fun playing around with magic (which made most nights in the cave far more interesting than Nimue wanted) and eating sweets (which Merlin never taught the boy for his own good yet he still figured it out), the plethora of knowledge that formed his daily routine gave him the mind of a scholar. His body wasn't very fit; he was a bit thin, but a good nutrition kept him from becoming frail and weak. He still had a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead and his glasses were small and silvery, made by Merlin as a gift. His hair, oddly enough, was quite messy; not even magic was able to completely tame it (much to Nimue's dismay and Merlin's surprise). He had a charming face that was always relaxed, and his emerald eyes constantly twinkled with wisdom and understanding.

Today, Merlin and his student had teleported (since Apparating was detectable by the Ministry of Magic, Merlin knew) to the outskirts of the forest that Merlin's Mound was located in. He cast his invisibility spell over them to keep the tourists from finding them. They sat with their legs crossed on the fresh grass, both dressed in robes of blue and green.

"Ok Harry, I'm going to explain this once. Then I'm going to show you. First, close your eyes and focus on the spiritual wavelengths around you. Then, concentrate on a specific beast or spirit you know of or want. Try to create an image of what you're looking for in your mind. Now, with your outstreched arm, focus that image into your arm and onto the spiritual wavelengths. You will be able to summon specific beasts that you know of or are in the area by tapping into the wavelength. However, it requires intense concentration and immense power, depending on the power and tameness of the beast you want. For example, I'm going summon a bird."

Harry watched on as Merlin raised his arm into the sky, eyes closed as his face contorted into one of deep concentration. The Boy Who Lived watched, observing the older wizard's still form. Suddenly, the ancient sorceror struck the ground with his right hand outstretched. Tiny glowing runic symbols poured out from each of his fingertips into the ground. Harry broke away from his observation as a large structure suddenly flew by, casting a huge shadow over him and his guardian. It drew Harry's attention, making him look up in the sky. His eyes widened at the sight of a giant bird flying toward the ground. The resulting wind nearly knocked the lightweight boy off the ground, causing him to shield his eyes from the sand and debris. His mouth went slack when the wind finally died down and he saw the bird.

Its pristine, jet-black plummage reflected the sunlight as well as a mirror. The huge wings rivaled most of the smaller trees in terms of size. The beautiful mane of silvery feathers on the back of its head glittered. Its indigo eyes glowed as it cawed with its large, silvery beak. Silver talons dug into the grassy ground with ease. Merlin opened his eyes and smiled at the creature.

"Harry, say hello to Zephyr. He is a silverbolt, a mystical kind of bird that is large enough to transport wizards who can't teleport...or who just enjoy a little bit of flying."

Harry stood up and edged slowly toward the massive bird. He raised his right arm tentatively, hoping that his hand would stop trembling before it made contact with the bird's ebony coat. As Harry felt its plummage and stroked it, Zephyr cawed in delight. Harry, however, panicked and pulled his hand back. Merlin chuckled, running his hand over his youthful dark hair.

"Relax, Harry. He likes you."

The Boy Who Lived sighed in relief and returned to petting the bird.

After a few minutes of talking about Zephyr, the silverbolt flew off since it had no task to carry out. The two wizards sat down once again, Merlin waiting patiently while Harry began to summon. Imitating his mentor, Harry thrust his outstretched right hand onto the ground, runic symbols flowing from his fingertips. Although Merlin paid attention to his pupil, he did not take heed of the runics.

A few minutes had passed by and the old magician had yet to sense the presence of any beast or animal. He continued to wait.

That was when the ground started to tremble.

Merlin knew that it was impossible for an earthquake to occur since he would have known about it beforehand. However, as he began to detect a strange energy pattern in the wavelengths of life, the wise old wizard gasped as he finally realized what was happening.

Harry was summoning somthing that was neither beast nor animal. Apparently, the boy was concentrating so hard that he lost focus of what he wanted. Instead of calling forth some mystical animal or beast, the Boy Who Lived had been calling on a description.

That was when Merlin decided to get up and face what he knew was going to appear.

The ground itself parted, creating a large chasm in the forest. The trees rumbled, and the animals ran away in hoped of distancing themselves from the approaching problem. Harry, who was still concentrating and focusing on pouring magic from his hand, was oblivious to the scene.

Suddenly, it appeared. Its monstrous tail ripped through the ground and whipped into the sky. However, the tail was made up of nothing but decaying yet razor-sharp bones. The torso and hips appeared before the large skeleton finally exploded through the ground and into the forest.

The beast was immense. The ribs of the monster were bigger than most small trees. Giant bony claws tore the ground up, leaving chaos and decay in their wake. The giant, saber-toothed skull was narrow, with horns sticking out of everywhere. It raised its massive head with its long bony neck, outstretching the four claws that it used for support. A pair of bat-like arms were attached to its spine, as though it originally had wings before it decayed into a pile of bones.

ROOOOOOOOWWWWRRRRR!

Merlin would've been very impressed by Harry if he wasn't preparing to stun the thing. Harry was still concentrating, neither realizing what he just did nor feeling the power he just called forth.

He had summoned a dragon, Merlin concluded. A dragon "grave", since it was actually a reanimated skeleton. The boy meant to summon some ferocious beast, but his train of thought turned from the beast to just ferocious. He concentrated too much power into awakening something ferocious, thus summoning the dead spirit of a dragon that once lived in the forest. The runics that poured out into the stream of life called not for an existing spirit in the region, but for the most powerful one that lived there. Apparently, the once-living dragon was the most ferocious beast that lived in the forest.

The undead dragon began to move toward Harry, ready to greet its master until Merlin intervened.

"SNAP OUT OF IT, HARRY! GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

Harry stopped concentrating, knowing that his summon was complete. He would have been happy judging from the nasty roar his summon emitted; however, he regretted its success as soon as he opened his eyes.

"AHHHHH!"

Running out of the way as the reanimated dragon grave approached him, Merlin put his arms forward, palms open, as he began to focus.

Another rumbling began to occur. Before the dragon reached Harry, the ground beneath the behemoth opened up, a gaping hole immediately growing in size below the creature. Jagged teeth made of mud and stone appeared at the edges of the pit, and the earth around it melted into quicksand, further enveloping the monster. With its limbs and body quickly sinking underground, the dragon tried to beat its wings, hoping to fly away; however, its wings were decayed, leaving it with nothing but useless bones. It uttered a final, horrible cry before the ground closed up, swallowing the behemoth whole.

Merlin sighed in relief, putting his arms down. The Boy Who Lived, however, was breathing quite quickly. He was trembling, his eyes were wide, and subconciously his body continued to move further and further back from where he was sitting. He looked up at his teacher, fear written all over his face.

The old wizard smiled at Harry. "I'm proud of you, m'boy."

Harry smiled timidly at Merlin before he fainted, scared out of his wits.

-----

Despite the incredibly dangerous feat that Harry accomplished, Merlin still chided him into summoning. However, the Boy Who Lived began to fear his own power. After all, not too many children could summon dragons at the age of 9 and still live to tell about it.

Harry was subconciously traumatized by that event, despite the sheer amount of pride Merlin had for him. He became adamant in his desire to postpone his summoning lessons; the idea of something more sinister appearing was too frightening for the little boy. When the ageless wizard asked his pupil to summon something else, Harry would either refuse to do so or pretend to try for his mentor's sake. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he summoned a living dragon with working wings.

Over the years Harry had asked his teacher and surrogate father many questions. Although there was nothing he could ask that the legendary magician couldn't answer, two questions happened to be the hardest for Merlin to explain to the little boy. First, there was the "wizard" question...

-----

"Father, how come we can do magic but the people I see on the the telly and read about in those books can't?"

Merlin looked at his 6-year-old charge with a bright expression. "That's because they aren't wizards, Harry. You see, magic folk are special. Boys who can do magic are called wizards, and girls who can do magic are called witches."

Harry, who was sitting on the rug of the living room, gave his teacher a confused look. "Does that mean you're a wizard too?"

For a moment, Merlin hesitated. Drawing in a deep breath, he turned to his pupil with a serious look on his face. "No, I am not. I was, once. But I am no longer a wizard."

Harry became even more confused. "But you can do magic! What are you then, Father?"

Merlin's face was still serious. "I am a man, Harry. A man who has died a thousand times, yet lived a thousand and one. I am a thinker, who questions all that he is, was, and ever shall be. I am a dreamer, who wishes, wants, and hopes for a better future. I am a witness to all that has happened, is happening, and will happen. I am a wanderer, who has traveled around this world too many times to count. I am a listener of stories, and a teller of tales. I am a servant of my people, and a master of my destiny. Above all, I am a teacher, who has the greatest student any man could ever ask for." And with that, he smiled at Harry.

The Boy Who Lived just stared at the great Merlin. He blinked. "So...you're not a wizard."

Merlin suppressed the urge to laugh. He nodded his head, hoping to contain his amusement from the boy who wanted a serious answer.

Harry turned his head, this time looking at the ground. "Then what am I?"

The wizard walked over to the boy and sat down with him. "You are you, Harry. That is all that matters. Whatever you want to be, you can be. You choose what you want to be, not what others tell you to be."

The boy turned his innocent head toward his surrogate father. "But...I can do magic and so can you. Why wouldn't we be called wizards?"

Merlin sighed. "Because a wizard does nothing but parlor tricks with a wave of a wand. A wizard is biased toward the opinions of the magic folk or the non-magic folk. A wizard is nothing more than a title that has existed far too long. No, Harry, we are not wizards. We are better than that."

Once again Harry looked confused. "Why are we better?"

The great magician just smiled his ever-knowing smile. "Because we don't do parlor tricks, Harry. We do real magic. We do the kind of magic that helps people, not to make our lives easier. I taught you my magic because I wanted to pass my power on. Hopefully, you will grow up to use that power to help people like I did, once."

Harry tilted his head to Merlin. "But you said I could be anything I wanted to be. Now I have to help people?"

The ageless one did not waver. "I said you could be what you wanted to be. But I know you, Harry. I know you want to help others. That is one of the many things you and I have in common. You can choose to be anything, but I know you'll choose to do good for the world."

The raven-haired child was no longer confused. He nodded with a smile. "Of course I wanna help people! Just like you, Father!" Another look of curiosity adorned the boy's face. "Who did you help?"

The now-young sorceror sighed once again, predicting that it would be a long night. "Well, Harry, a long time ago I once aided a man named Arthur Pendragon..."

-----

However, the most difficult discussion occurred on Harry's 10th birthday...

-----

"Come on, honey! Aren't you going to make a wish?"

Merlin and Nimue watched in anticipation as Harry stared at the huge chocolate cake. The little boy was usually delighted at the prospect of cake and presents. However, there was a thought in his mind that constantly bugged him. It irritated him every time his birthday came up, and his tenth was no exception.

The ten candles flickered brightly in front of Harry. Sparks of crimson and gold could be seen reflected off of Harry's emerald eyes, his look vacant and distressed. While Nimue continued to prod the boy on why he seemed depressed, Merlin sighed. The wise old wizard realized just what was bothering his pupil. Sighing heavily as the thought of a long talk crossed his mind, Merlin pulled out a wooden chair from the table and sat down adjacent to Harry. His twinkling, calm eyes focused on the saddened little boy.

"Do you want to know what happened to your real parents, Harry?"

Shocked, the Boy Who Lived snapped his head sideways, looking directly at his teacher. Nimue stepped back from her surrogate son, looking uncomfortable.

The little boy stuttered a response to the ageless sorceror. "W-well, I was kinda h-h-hoping..."

Merlin raised an ageless hand to silence the nervous boy. Smiling warmly, he looked directly at his student. "Well, Harry, you know that scar on your face?"

Harry nodded, his right hand involuntarily moving to feel the infamous lightning-shaped scar.

Merlin quickly conjured up a cup of tea. Looking away from his student for a moment, he took a sip. His face cringed slightly. "Mmm, too bitter. Then again, Earl Grey will always be bitter, I suppose..." With a quick hand gesture over the cup, sugar appeared and fell in. A spoon also seemed to form in the tea, stirring automatically. As the spoon finished its chore and disappeared, Merlin took another sip.

Harry coughed loudly.

The ageless wizard snapped out of his reverie. "Whoops! Sorry, Harry. You know what good tea does to me." Setting the cup aside, Merlin redirected his attention back to his student. "You see, Harry, your scar came from a wizard named Voldemort..."

-----

It only took a few minutes for Merlin to recollect the vision he had of Harry's parents being killed. However, each minute that passed felt like an hour to the Boy Who Lived. His eyes were wide and brimming with tears, his face trapped in a look of utter horror. Nimue, who heard this story when Merlin brought Harry to their home, stared at the stone floor of her cavern home. Merlin, finishing the story, returned to his tea. After taking a solitary sip, the master of magic faced his pupil once again.

"How are you feeling now, Harry?"

The Boy Who Lived didn't know what to do. The thought that his parents were ruthlessly killed sickened him. His rage was curbed when his teacher told him that his parents' killer was defeated. Nevertheless, dozens of questions swam in the boy's head. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Harry looked at his mentor.

"But how did I survive? How could I have beaten Voldemort?"

Merin gave Harry a small smile. "You survived and defeated Voldemort because your birthmother loved you."

The little boy scratched his head in confusion. "How?"

Taking another sip of tea, Merlin explained. "You see, Harry, your mother died while protecting you. She was a wizard who, in her death, actually cast an ancient magic spell on you. This spell creates a barrier in your soul that protects you from any poisonous, evil forces that would kill you. Your mother loved you so much that her death activated this spell, Harry."

Nimue shuffled slightly from where she stood. Harry nodded in understanding. "What is the spell called, Father?"

Merlin sipped his tea before answering. "It actually has several names, translated into Druid, Latin, and Norse. However, I believe the loose English translation is 'Shield of Hope'"

Again, Harry was confused. "Why hope? Isn't it based on love?"

Merlin smiled. "Of course it is. But remember, Harry, the spell's concept is that it protects you from evil and death. It is your mother's final 'hope' that you live a long, happy life that has kept you safe from the Killing Curse. As a matter of fact, it will continue to protect you from death, so long as you shall live."

Harry nodded again, a single tear streaming down his face. "My parents were great wizards, weren't they, Father?"

The older wizard nodded. "From what I've gathered, they truly were. And it was wrong of me to delay this matter until now. You have a right to know about your significance in the magical community, Harry. An importance that I have hidden from you since you were born."

Harry leaned forward from his chair. "What is it, Father?"

Merlin's eyes twinkled as he spoke. "You saved the world, Harry Potter. You are the Boy Who Lived."

-----

After that day, Harry spent his freetime reading the books that Merlin never conjured up for him. Books about the legendary Boy Who Lived, the child who defeated the Dark wizard Voldemort and single-handidly saved the world. No matter how epic each account had been, Harry still cried after reading about himself. He hated the fact that he was famous for something that caused the death of his parents.

What still confused Harry, however, was Merlin's role in the historic "Fall of Voldemort". Every account said that he was under the custody of another wizard for safety's sake. When he asked his mentor why he was never mentioned by name, Merlin shrugged. When questioned about why he came under Merlin's tutelage, the ageless wizard simply answered "Because you have the power." Harry never understood this as a child, and usually dropped the matter out of confusion.

Harry understood his importance in the wizarding world. However, he never really saw the wizarding world, and he often wondered about the changes that he caused. Despite having access to the world outside the cave, his adventurous heart longed to experience it. Although he could not tell this to his teacher (as he probably would have let him experience the world as a skunk or something worse), the boy voiced this desire to the closest parent he had: Nimue.

The ageless woman cherished the life she had with Harry as a son. While Merlin had Harry's mind, Nimue had his heart. As a baby, she was the one who cared for him and spent countless nights rocking his cradle and singing to him. As he grew, she found more and more things to do with the little boy. Often, they would have fun planting some vegetation at the outskirts of the cave, where fresh air and sunlight were most abundant. When she baked cookies, he would beg her to let him help. Usually, the small raven-haired child would end up eating the dough while she baked, followed by him trying to eat the result of her work as well. She loved reading books to him, and tucking him into bed every night. She was enraptured by being a mother, which was something she had yet to experience during her long lifetime.

She loved her son, even if he wasn't really her son. And she loved Harry enough to honor his greated wish before his eleventh birthday...

-----

"Well, Harry, you're going to be 11 in two days!"

Nimue sat at the edge of Harry's bed, pulling the blanket over the boy. "What do you want for your birthday?"

Harry's green eyes shimmered slightly as he looked at his surrogate mother. He shifted uncomfortably under the blankets.

Nimue smiled warmly at her son. "It's ok, Harry. You can ask for anything you want!"

Harry became nervous. "A-anything?"

Nimue nodded.

The Boy Who Lived took a deep breath. "I..."

Nimue watched her son eagerly. "Yes?"

"...wannagotoregularschool."

Nimue's smile immediately fell. "What?"

Harry became even more uncomfortable. "Well, I wanna live outside the cave, mum. But Father wants me to stay here with him and you so I can learn. So I figured, maybe if I went to school, then I can see the world outside the cave and learn. Is that ok, mum?"

Nimue stared at the ground for a moment. She sighed after a while, and looked at her son with an expression of tranquility. "Are you sure, Harry?"

Harry just nodded.

Once again, Nimue sighed. "Very well, Harry. I'll try."

-----

"You can't keep him in this cave for the rest of his life, Merlin!"

Nimue looked at her husband with every bit of resolve she could muster. Her mahogany-brown hair was flowing freely, no longer braided as she was accustomed to keep it. She stood at the doorway in her bathroom robe, giving her husband a determined look.

Most people realize that a good marraige must consist of at least a fight or two. After hundreds of years, Nimue had been obedient to her husband. It wasn't because of servitude, since Merlin always tried to make her life easier. It wasn't because of dominance, since it was he who followed her into the cave. It was because she had nothing to stand up for in the first place: she brought him to the cave, she made him turn it into a home, and she accepted his explanation for their lack of offspring. However, she now had a son, and she was not going to let him suffer.

Merlin sat on the bed and looked at his wife. His eyes were sad; this was an argument they've had since Harry was 6. He sighed, ready to engage in the same verbal battle that he had fought with her every year. "I told you already, Nimue, he can't leave. He's a wizard. The second he does something out of the ordinary, he'll be persecuted. Then what? You know how much the world has changed. We watched it on that bloody television, my love."

Nimue's resolve stiffened. "Then what about the wizarding community? I mean, surely he'd be welcome there."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the child that defeated Voldemort, and the only wizard in the world who knows of the archaic magic that I, Merlin, taught him, would surely be welcomed into the weak, ignorant, biased, power-hungry magical community that exists today."

Nimue was surprised by Merlin's sarcasm, something he stopped showing since Arthur's death. She sighed, ready to deal her trump card. "What about Harry?"

The ageless wizard arched an eyebrow at his ageless wife. "What are you talking about, Nimue?"

She looked at her husband with teary eyes. "How can you deny Harry of having friends? You've forced him to live in this cave all his life! The farthest he's been is to the edge of the forest! You can't do that to Harry, Merlin. He deserves a life. He wants to go to school in order to have one."

The wizard looked at his wife with surprise. Although he anticipated this argument, he didn't realize how strongly Nimue felt about Harry. He realized that he had spent too much time with the boy as a teacher instead of a father. Nimue, he knew, always read books to him and tucked him in at night. She was the one who made Harry's favorite treacle fudge cookies, and she always tended to the plants with him. She was more of a mother to him than he was a father.

Merlin's surprise quickly became seriousness. "He deserves happiness, Nimue. The world is filled with nothing but disappoinments and pain. Here, he is protected."

The ageless woman narrowed her eyes at the sorceror. "I want to protect him too, Merlin. But we can't lock him up here. It's cruel and you know it. Don't let what happened between you and the Pendragon family judge how you should perceive the common man, Merlinus Ambrosius."

His expression waivered under his wife's glare. She addressed him by his full name, she brought up even more memories of the past, and worst of all, she was starting to sound very familiar to him. He finally relented, sighing heavily, knowing that he could not win the argument at this rate. "Very well. I shall enroll him into Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry tomorrow. It is a boarding school for wizards, starting at the age of 11. Is that better?"

The woman's glare immediately became an expression of regret. "Oh, a...boarding school?"

Merlin nodded solemnly.

Nimue was about to object, saying that she didn't want Harry to leave her completely, until she finally relented as well. She sighed. "It...would be selfish of me to want to keep Harry here just for my sake. Very well then, Hogwarts it is."

As his ageless wife tucked herself into bed with him, Merlin looked up at the ceiling of his cave. His judgment was no longer clouded by his inability to let Harry go. With that clarity, however, came another surprising thought. After a few moments, he sighed and tried to fall asleep, deciding to visit Avalon in the morning instead.

-----

Far off in the most remote corner of the waters that surrounded Great Britain, there lies an island. Not just an island, mind you; it was more like a picture. A picture of an era where magic and sorcery were commonplace. An era where little boys longed for knighthood, and little girls dreamed of becoming princesses. An era of swords and horses instead of guns and cars; where chivalry reigned supreme and the code of honor was all that one required. This picture of an extinct era still existed, only to be hidden under the mists that guarded this sacred place from those who seek it. It was a picture, frozen within the sands of time, constantly preserved by the ageless inhabitants that cared for the isle.

Avalon. The Last Haven.

The mists parted as a brilliant light began to appear on the sandy beaches of Avalon's shores, brightening the forever-dreary atmosphere of the sacred isle. However, in a matter of seconds the light disappeared as easily as it came, leaving behind two people. Two people concealed under the returning mists, concealing them like a gray veil. The shadowy figures began to move, their destination already set.

"So this is Avalon?"

"Yes, Harry. This is the place."

10-year-old Harry Potter was marveled by the sights of the beautiful landscape. Despite the somewhat depressing sky, the lush green fields and magnificent structures of marble and stone put Harry in awe. The silence of the mist was both eerie and surreal, and the only disturbance that occurred was the music of the waves hitting the beach. The slight breeze caused Harry and Merlin's robes to flutter soundlessly. Although the boy found the forests surrounding his cavern to be peaceful, the deathly silence and solitary atmosphere gave the Boy Who Lived a feeling of serenity as well.

Merlin turned to his pupil. "I want you stay close to the shoreline. I'll be back soon, I just need to get something."

Harry was about to protest until he remembered what Merlin told him about his history with Avalon. Realizing that his mentor probably wants some 'alone time', the young boy nodded. "Can I look around here?"

Merlin nodded. "Just don't stray too far from the shores."

The raven-haired wizard nodded his head, green eyes glimmering in the gray background. He watched his teacher leave him temporarily, knowing quite well what the ageless magician wanted to do.

-----

The flames flickered into life as the shadowy figure entered. Golden light poured into the room of marble, revealing its awesome beauty. Pillars engraved with the images of knights supported the Colosseum atmosphere, while floating torches illuminated the room. The figure walked on, stopping momentarily as he saw the end of the floor and the huge gap that stood between him and his targeted location. The figure chuckled slightly before continuing his leisurely pace, unfazed by the lack of a bridge or floor. The man's faith was rewarded as a narrow rainbow appeared under him, supporting him in his journey toward the center of the room. As he stepped off of the band of light, the figure kneeled before the altar that stood before him. The torches circling overhead once again illuminated the area, revealing a beautiful altar covered in gold and violet velvet. The light danced with the shadows, twisting and turning until the torches found themselves spotlighting the figure that lay on top of the royal altar.

Arthur Pendragon, the greatest king in all of Britain.

Merlin finished his prayer before he stood back up, his face conveying a look of both happiness and sadness. He smiled, twinkling eyes barely holding back the tears. He tipped his pointed hat toward the man he dedicated a part of his life to. The ageless wizard caressed the cheek of his deceased son, student, and best friend. After a few moments, Merlin spoke.

"I have decided to let him go out to the world, Wart."

More silence.

"I know, it has been a while since I visited you, hasn't it?"

A chuckle.

"And even longer since I've trusted someone else, eh?"

More silence. Then, a sigh.

"He must go out into the world. Destiny itself has decreed it."

The lights flickered. Both figures stood perfectly still; one out of death, the other out of contemplation.

"It is hard. I know that he will not die of old age, and the shield his mother left him will keep him safe."

More silence.

"And yet...it is hard to see what truly lies in store for Harry. Strange that the boy would be the greatest enigma I ever bore witness to."

Another sigh.

"The blood of lions and dragons flows through his veins."

Merlin's hand left Arthur's cheek.

"He will face many hardships, and I cannot protect him from all of them."

Merlin hung his head low.

"But I have no choice, do I? I must trust him."

Merlin turned away, ready to leave.

"After all, I trusted you, didn't I?"

Merlin began to leave that chamber, the light disappearing from his face. He was at the entrance of the sanctum when he turned back to the body of the great king.

"But...when the time comes, I won't fail him. I promise."

And with that, the supreme wizard left.

-----

Harry sat on the beach of the great island of Avalon. He already looked around the shores, disappointed at the lack of life that was there. Very few spirits existed around the area; although the island was completely shielded by magic, it was void of the elemental spirits that breathed life into forests and plains.

That must be why it is so gray, Harry thought.

"It's not all bad, you know."

Harry jumped with a start, surprised that something living was able to sneak up on him without him noticing. The boy who lived got up, adjusted his glasses, and looked around for the mysterious voice.

He raised his arms up in defense, ready to cast a spell in his defense. "Who's there?"

The mysterious voice suddenly giggled.

Now Harry was confused. "Um, why are you giggling?"

The mysterious voice seemed less distant. "You're cute when you get all worked up."

Harry blushed, yet without noticing the heat rising to his face.

The voice giggled once again.

Lowering his arms at the sound of the giggling voice, Harry sat down once again. Even though he knew the voice was probably not dangerous (as most dangerous things didn't complement their victim and giggle at the reaction), he felt that it was pointless to threaten his mysterious assailant. He couldn't see where the voice was coming from, and his magical sense couldn't detect it. Therefore, the only course of action left was to talk to it.

"Um, who, what, and where are you?"

Without warning, some of the mists began to spiral around the Boy Who Lived. Harry was slightly startled by the strange turn of events; however, upon closer inspection he realized what was happening and who was talking to him.

The young wizard smiled. "You're a Djinn wizard, right?"

The mists began to condense together. In front of Harry's eyes, a shadow appeared behind the veil of mists. The shadow stepped out of the its surroundings like a painting coming to life, revealing a young girl in plain brown robes. Eyes as blue as the ocean around them and sandy-colored hair highlighted her visage.

The young girl, whom looked about Harry's age, smiled. "Yep."

Harry examined the girl that suddenly appeared. She was a perfect picture of innocence; her face held a look of naivete framed with short blonde hair and brown eyes. Her robes confirmed Harry's original idea that she was a practitioner of spiritual and ethereal arts. She continued smiling at Harry, arms behind her.

Harry stood up to greet the girl. He never met a girl before. Although he had seen many members of the female gender in his books and television, he never actually met one other than his surrogate mother, Nimue. It was the first of what he hoped to be many new experiences.

Harry extended his hand in friendship. "Hello, I'm H-"

"Harry Potter, yes, I know. Uncle Merlin's student, the Boy Who Lived, the child whose blood flows with the lion and the dragon. I've heard all about you." The girl said innocently.

Harry looked stunned. 'Whose blood flows with the lion and the dragon? Uncle Merlin?' He was a little amazed that his legend seemed to be well known in even Avalon. Sighing, Merlin's protege hung his head low and decided to put his hand away.

The girl caught his hand before he could do so, however. For a hand made of mist, it felt surprisingly human to the young boy.

"Nice to meetcha!"

Harry smiled, glad to make his first friend.

"HARRY! READY TO GO?"

Harry turned his head around, smiling as his mentor appeared with a large veiled object underneath his arm. Merlin continued to walk toward him, carrying a smile along with his covered item. He must be done by now, concluded Harry.

"Father! I'd like you to meet my new friend!"

Harry turned his around. The strange girl wasn't there anymore, and his hand was grasping nothing but air.

Harry was shocked. He quickly turned around and ran toward his teacher and surrogate father. "Father! MY FRIEND DISAPPEARED!"

Merlin and Harry finally reached each other. Harry was slightly out of breath, babbling about how he made a friend with a Djinn wizard and how she suddenly disappeared when it would have been impossible for one to disappear that quickly unless one knew a teleport spell.

Merlin suddenly started laughing. Harry became even more confused at the turn of events.

"Wha...?"

Merlin calmed himself as he saw how confused his pupil was. "I assume you met a little sandy-haired girl?"

Harry's eyes widened. "Well, yes..."

Merlin chuckled lightly. "Yes, she's probably still embarassed about the last time she saw me. Back then, she accidently spilled this potion all over my robes that turned them pink...permenently."

Harry nodded in understanding until another thought came to him. "Wait...the last time she...?"

Merlin nodded again, smiling and looking at Harry with pride. "Good deduction skills, m'boy. Yes, she met me back in Arthur's time."

Harry was once again surprised. "B-but how...?"

Merlin looked at his student. "Think, Harry. You studied Avalon before."

Harry nodded and thought for a moment. The answer suddenly came to him. "Oh, I remember! Avalon ages much slower than the regular world, right? A day passed in Avalon is like a week in real time!"

Merlin nodded. "Exactly. That is why we are leaving immediately, lest we waste more than just a day in the real world."

Harry looked worried. "But...what about..."

Merlin chuckled again. "Don't worry, you'll meet her again. I promise."

Harry nodded. And with that, the legendary figures left the mystical island.

-----

The month of July ended on a sunny note, as Harry celebrated his 11th birthday. The boy adored this birthday most of all; Nimue baked him a huge cake filled with various chocolates and covered with enough sugar to make Harry sick for an entire week. Various other pastries and fudges were concocted for later consumption by the child. It wasn't just the sweets that made this day special, however, but the announcement that came afterwards.

"So I'll be going to this school called Hogwarts." Harry said, barely containing his excitement.

"Yes." Merlin answered, smiling as he sensed his pupil's eagerness.

"Will there be a lot of people there?" asked Harry.

"Many."

Harry nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "...Do you think they'll like me?"

Merlin chuckled. "They'll love you, Harry. I guarantee it."

Harry nodded once again. "Do you think I'll do well?"

Merlin patted Harry on the back. "I expect you to be the top student in your class!"

"Do you-"

Merlin interrupted his student. "Stop asking me what I think, Harry. You know I think you'll do well there."

Harry nodded once again.

After a moment of silence, Harry spoke up. "So, what do I need for Hogwarts?"

"They'll send a list to the edge of the forest via owl post."

Harry (yep, you guessed it) nodded. "So...does that mean I'll need an owl to correspond with you and Mum?"

Merlin shook his head, trying to contain his own excitement. "Nope. I already have an owl for you to use."

Harry gawked at his mentor. "You do?"

Merlin nodded and picked up the cloaked item he got from Avalon. This time, however, there was a bow attached to the top. He passed the large, dome-like object to Harry. The boy immediately took his gift and unwrapped the cloak, revealing a beautiful silver cage with a large owl in it.

His eyes were large and golden. His plummage was a mix of mahogany and black, while his crest and stomach feathers were snowy white. He "hoot"-ed at Harry, who gazed at the animal with love and awe.

Harry was speechless. Then again, his mouth was hanging from his face at that moment, so any speech on his part would have been fairly difficult to accomplish.

Merlin smiled. "His name is Archimedes."

Harry smiled at the owl. "Hello, Archimedes."

The owl looked at his new master peculiarly. If Harry hadn't known better, he would have thought the owl was examining him.

Harry looked at his mentor. "Can I call him Archy?"

"Good Heavens, no! I shall only be addressed as Archimedes!"

Harry's head snapped back at the owl. His emerald eyes were wide, staring directly at the owl's golden ones.

The owl just talked, thought Harry.

Archimedes just stared at Harry, wondering why the heck Merlin always wanted him to accompany young boys with a penchant towards calling him 'Archy'.

Merlin just smiled. The scene occuring before him was the exact same as Arthur and Archimedes' first meeting.

Harry snapped out of his state of bewilderment. "My goodness, I didn't know you could talk!"

Archimedes looked indignant. "Well, I do. So?"

Harry blinked, looking nervous. "Well, it's just that...you're going to be my messenger owl. You don't mind, do you?"

Archimedes eyed the boy warily, or as warily as an owl could. A few uneasy minutes passed by. The owl quickly glanced at his former master Merlin, who just nodded. Looking back at Harry, the proud owl mentally relented. "As long as you address me by my proper name, I won't mind. Really, you'd think that people would be more respectful after a few centuries of civilization..."

Harry didn't seem to hear the rest of the bird's babbling. He turned to his teacher, smiling brightly. "Thanks, Dad."

Merlin smiled. "You're welcome...Harry."

-----

NEXT TIME: Diagon Alley Blues

-----

Author's Notes:

REVISED EDITION

Just to answer a few questions:

1.) Merlin lives on the other side of the timestream, but this isn't in terms of reality, just time. In other words, his mind works from the future to the past; he lives his life with time going in a different direction for him. He knows the future (which is why he suggests Hogwarts), but has a hard time with the past (specifically, anything that happened before the Arthurian age. This is why he has problems remembering his childhood but not his adulthood, which he constantly refreshens with his age spell).

2.) The greatest wizard of all time, being intimidated by his wife? Laughing? Having a hard time teaching a little boy about magic? Yes, I know it doesn't sound believable, but it's what I always thought Merlin would be. Granted, he's old and wise and prophetic, but he was also the one who cared for Arthur as a child. That is the sole differance between him and Dumbledore; while Dumbledore has been a professor and a headmaster and has cared for many children, he has NEVER treated one like a son or daughter (as is my knowledge). Merlin, on the other hand, took care of Arthur since he was a pre-teen all the way up until he died. He taught him about life, values, and even had fun with him when he turned Arthur into various animals (more on that later). That alone gives Merlin far more emotional loss. And even though he is wise, I still believe that he's more human than Dumbledore. I mean, he has a wife, he had a surrogate son, and his life has been filled with very "human" issues (more on that later). He's still intimidating, too; you just haven't seen it since there are no threats present (and Voldy is kinda gone).

3.) My Merlin is a fusion of the numerous (and most well-known) legends of Merlin that are out there. Although I had to tweak his story for the sake of explanation and my tale, it is still adherent to the traditional Merlin legends, just with a little altering from my part. Think of him as Pepsi Twist; the original story is the Pepsi, and I'm the cheap artifical lemon flavoring. :)

If this chapter wasn't that good for ya, feel free to e-mail me your suggestions. Just be reasonable; no "make this an H/H or H/G or whatever story" or "YOU SUCK! HAHAHA" stuff. Please make suggestions CONSTRUCTIVE. As for the pairing, I'm still working on them. However, I already have some ideas that would probably fit in with Harry's new personality.

As always, the more you review the more I write. Thanks.

E-Mail: AIM: SeraphZero00

Peace. - SeraphZero 


	3. Chapter03:revised:Diagon Alley Blues

insert witty, urbane disclaimer HERE

Merlin has always been the greatest wizard in history. However, he never taught his magic to anyone else; he buried his power along with his name. But what if he found the perfect student to teach? And what it was little Harry Potter?

-----

The Student of Merlin By SeraphZero E-Mail: 3: Diagon Alley Blues

"The greatest difficulties lie where we are not looking for them." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

-----

Albus Dumbledore whistled an upbeat tune as he marched toward his office. Stopping only for a moment to whisper the password that opened the staircase (Pumpkin Pasties), he strolled along to his workplace. The new school year was approaching rapidly, and with it would come new students, all brimming with youth and talent. The idea made Albus smile as he greeted Fawkes, his pet phoenix, with enthusiasm.

Seating himself at his desk, Albus decided to begin his day with a copy of the Daily Prophet. However, he found it peculiar that he could not begin to read, for something felt out of place for the Headmaster of Hogwarts. No danger seemed present, none that he could sense anyway. Rather, the strangest feeling that something in his office room was not how he left it.

He folded the newspaper and placed it on his desk, only to find that instead of hitting a hardwood surface, the soft thud of paper coming in contact with more paper could be heard. For a sharp mind like Dumbledore's, that soft thud could have been as loud as a banshee's cry.

Picking up his newspaper and tossing it aside, Albus noticed a small, unmarked envelope on his desk. He realized that the item had to have appeared overnight, for it was not there yesterday. Nor could it have been left by any of the other professors, since their presence would have been accounted for in his magically protected room. The envelope had to have been apparated into the room...yet apparating is impossible in Hogwarts.

Still sensing no danger, Albus decided that the only answers to his questions lay in the envelope. Picking it up and opening it carefully, Albus checked the contents. Inside were several sheets of paper, neatly arranged and perfectly folded. He unfolded the papers and read through them quickly.

His eyes widened. His mouth gaped open.

Albus Dumbledore, for the first time in a very long while, was surprised.

He suddenly burst out laughing, dancing a strange yet ecstatic dance, thankful for the privacy of his office that protected him from any embarassment of acting so energetically. He immediately left his office to make sure that the proper papers were sent out, as there was no time to waste on such a momentous occasion.

Harry Potter just sent his letter of attendance to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

-----

"No."

"Oh, come now Merlin! It would be good for us as a family."

"No way."

"Please, dad? I wanna do it!"

"Uh-uh."

"Really, Merlin, act your age!"

"If I did, I'd be a corpse."

"C'mon, dad!

"What part of the word 'NO' don't you understand?"

"Honestly Merlin, there's no harm in it."

"No still means no."

"But dad...!"

"I said NO. For the last time, it is completely unnecessary as long as I'm around..."

"But it would be more fun!"

"Yeah! Mum's right!"

"FINE!" sigh "We'll do it, we'll do it. Honestly, you two..."

"See, mum? I told you dad would let us go!"

"Of course, honey. After all, your father is a weak-willed man."

"...I'm still right here, you know."

-----

Harry and Nimue stood in front of the small flower patch that grew inside the cozy cavern. The Boy Who Lived waited impatiently for his "father" to arrive so they could begin their biggest family adventure of all time.

Shopping.

Harry could hardly contain his excitement. His emerald eyes were glittering from the prospect of his first real trip to the outside world. Dressed in a simple green sweater and slacks, he adjusted his silver spectacles for the fortieth time and continued to (unsuccessfully) straighten out his disordered hair. Nimue, who dressed simply for the occasion, just watched her surrogate son, occasionally supressing the urge to giggle at her child's hair-related plight.

"Alright, let's get this over with." said Merlin as he appeared.

Harry and Nimue directed their attention to the ageless wizard. Their eyes widened at the sight they saw. If either of them had ever been surprised in their entire lives, this would have been the moment.

Merlin, whose appearance was that of a roguish man who only showed signs of gray hair, now looked like a 40-year-old overweight man sporting a "IT'S CALLED FOOTBALL, NOT SOCCER" t-shirt covered in chocolate stains and bright pink shorts.

Merlin's plump face smiled. "Well, what do you think?"

Harry was already on the ground laughing, clutching onto his sides. Nimue simply had her head whipped back, laughing like a banshee.

Pinching the bridge of his nose with his stubby fingers, Merlin sighed.

-----

After 5 minutes of laughing at Merlin's expense, Harry and Nimue had finally calmed down enough to listen to Merlin who, thankfully, transformed back into his original form.

He looked at his ageless wife and adopted student with a critical eye. "Honestly, what was wrong with wearing a disguise? I don't want people to recognize me, and frankly that was the most inconspicuous guise I could concoct."

"Don't be so paranoid, Merlin. The vast majority of the wizarding community still thinks you're dead. They also don't expect you to look so young in the first place." said Nimue, still calming herself.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Yes, but there are still people in this world who probably remember my prophecies and the Fountain of Youth spell. For all you know, a bloody reporter might remember them, recognize me, and begin investigating."

"Yes, just like a reporter letting the entire Muggle world know about wizards and witches living among them, but that doesn't seem to happen as often as we think, does it?" replied Nimue.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at his wife, who smiled innocently. "Touché, dear."

-----

One teleportation spell later...

"Welcome, Harry, to...ah, what was it again, dear?"

"I think it was called 'Diagon Alley'."

"Yes, of course...DIAGON ALLEY!"

They arrived on the very corner of where the street began, secluded from other shoppers and pedestrians. The shadows covered the family in its cloak of darkness, obscuring their dramatic entrance. However, no shadow could have hidden the immense twinkle in the eyes of Harry Potter.

"Wow..."

If pictures were worth a thousand words, the real thing would be limitless. For Harry Potter, that sentiment struck him like a bolt of lightning as the sight of buildings and people bustling around occured in front of him. Men and women, children and the elderly, people of all sizes and ages swarmed the magical marketplace. The streets were paved with families buying school supplies, children playing and talking, and men being merry after a few glasses of butterbeer. The afternoon sun illuminated the scene of modern-day wizard life as people bought, sold, and hassled over their everyday items. However, in the eyes of a boy whose life consisted of images and words in a cave, of theory and description instead of reality, the scene of regularity was absolutely extraordinary.

Harry's entire life was spent secluded from the outside world. After seeing the light in Harry's eyes at the sight of other wizards and real buildings, Merlin no longer regretted leaving the cave with the family. He looked at his wife, who, after seeing her adopted son's expression, was equally as glad about the excursion.

The most powerful wizarding family in the world had just arrived in Diagon Alley.

-----

Harry roamed the streets, moving from shop to shop and examining everything in sight, with an equally-curious Nimue right behind him. Dressed in the simplest and most plain clothing he could concoct, Merlin walked along with his wife and adopted child, reading off the list of supplies necessary for Hogwart's.

Merlin adjusted his silver glasses and began to read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY UNIFORM: First-year students will require:  
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear 3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Merlin stopped reading for a moment and blinked. "Nothing but black clothing? What's wrong with blue? Honestly, it's like every wizard has to be stereotypically dark..."

Harry and Nimue paid no attention to the timeless wizard's complaint, still admiring the wonderous trinkets in the shops of Diagon Alley. Merlin sighed at the lack of attention given to him and continued to read:

COURSE BOOKS

Merlin quickly scanned the required reading, snickering slightly at the fact that his prodigal student already read through them all at an earlier age. Skipping to the list of OTHER EQUIPMENT, the ageless magician's eyes widened at the sight of one item's mention in particular

"A WAND! How weak are these wizards!"

As rare and unique as the sights were to Harry, the fact that his calm and collected caretaker had an outburst attracted his attention more. "What's wrong with a wand? All the wizarding books claim that they are quite necessary for the spells they talk about..."

Having already committed most of the list to memory, Merlin pocketed the list and looked at Harry. "They are only necessary for the wizards living in the current age. When I received my tutelage in the magical arts, all my lessons required only hand movements and, when I was focused enough, mere thoughts."

Harry looked perplexed. "But...that still doesn't explain why you think wizards are 'weak' for using wands..."

Merlin took a deep breath, bearing in mind the fact that Harry never received an explanation on why wands were weak since all his texts emphasized their strengths. "Harry, the most potent magics come from sheer thought or hand motion. Magical power comes directly from the person using it, and the hand or the mind are a part of the body. In essence, they are directly connected to the source of power being used. However, such immense power also needs a great deal of focus and concentration to harnass properly. Items such as wands or staves merely act as conduits to help focus such raw magical power. While it makes concentration easier, those items also severely limit and handicap your abilities into whatever the item can handle. Compare, for example...a waterfall to a faucet sink. Well, a wand is that pipe that controls that flow of water."

Harry still looked perplexed. "Well...waterfalls also have their limits, too...couldn't you just find a wand capable enough of tapping into your full power? I mean, it's not like anybody could truly have an immense amnount of power..."

Merlin smiled slightly at Harry's inquisitive mind. "Maybe...but you, the person, are the limitations of that waterfall, and frankly...no wand in the world could possibly ebb the power flow of the spells I taught you. Frankly, you're just going to have to continue training your mind until you have enough focus and concentration to use your magic properly. Self-control can be taught, Harry...it does not need a handicap to aid it. Power, however, is something that is determined based solely on the person."

"But still...it's not like I have a waterfall of magical power in me."

Merlin took a moment to consider if it would be wise to tell Harry that, like him, the boy's power was more akin to all the oceans of the Earth combined than a mere waterfall. Deciding to withhold the information from Harry instead of lying to his pupil, Merlin merely replied, "Well...you would never find out if you had one if you limited yourself to a wand now, would you Harry?"

Harry could only nod in agreement as he absorbed the newly-acquired information. Once he saw the Eeylops Owl Emporium, however, the green-eyed youth went from nodding to gazing in awe at the sight of numerous beautiful birds. While he indeed still had Archimedes, who decided to rest at home rather than join the chaos of consumer purchasing, Harry still felt amazement shining plummage of the snowy white birds, a rare sight in the summer-drenched forests of Merlin's Mound.

Merlin smirked, realizing that if he allowed Harry to do the shopping, they would never leave the marketplace of Diagon Alley. "Harry, you can look around all you like. How about Nimue and I do the shopping for you, and you can just look around? We'll meet back at the front of the street in say...2 hours?"

Harry did not speak, nor turn to acknowledge his mentor. He did, however, reintroduce the action of nodding into his gazing to confirm that he understood Merlin's instructions. Holding back a small laugh, the supreme wizard quickly left a few Galleons in Harry's pocket. He proceeded to take his wife's hand and lead her further into Diagon Alley, continuing their exciting shopping adventure while Harry sidetracked himself with a quest of sight-seeing.

-----

Deep within the cavernous passageways of Gringotts, Rubeus Hagrid exited a cart driven by a goblin named Griphook. For a man as gargantuan as he was, Hagrid exhibited an air of nervousness from his darting eyes to his fumbling figners. He looked to his left and to his right, assessing his surroundings, as he approached a vault numbered 713 with the utmost haste.

Ever since he lost Harry Potter to the mysterious wizard who claimed to be Merlin, Hagrid became far more cautious than deemed necessary. However, the contents of vault 713 were important enough to warrant such paranoia.

Rubeus Hagrid was a half-giant who would not fail Dumbledore again. He swore this oath around 10 years ago and renewed it as he pocketed the heavily-wrapped spherical object within vault 713.

-----

Amazed emerald eyes peered through the glass window of the Eeylops Owl Emporium and witnessed the beauty of the owls within. Outside of his newly-acquired companion, Archimedes, Harry never witnessed so many birds in one setting. With eyes aghast, he marveled onward and motioned toward the entrance of the building, letting a solitary statement escape his wise and educated mouth:

"Pretty birdies..."

Needless to say, our young protagonist was quite flabberghasted.

Harry ran back and forth from each owl, marveling at their reactions and movements. Not even the vast woodlands of Merlin's Mound contained such an array of snowy-white owls. The delicate, soft sheen of their feathers seemed to shine in the daylight, a stark contrast from the dark, woodland color of Archimedes' own plummage. Despite feeling content with the gracious gift Merlin gave him the day before, Harry could not help but feel a twinge of desire for one of the fine winged creatures. At least, he thought, none of these owls would talk back to me and refuse an ingenious nickname. Thoughts of the dignified talking bird aside, Harry continued to examine each owl, since even the best moving photographs could not replace the actual experience of a living, breathing...

"I said I wanted THAT bird!"

The cry of a pompous and spoiled brat broke Harry's reverie. He diverted his attention to the source of such a nuisance, which stood in front of the counter of the store.

"That one! Look at it! That bird would make a fine servant for a future wizarding legend."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the pretentious statement. He turned himself away from the cages to approach the boy. He appeared to be Harry's age, judging from his height. Sleek blond hair found itself slicked back on his head. He dressed in dark robes, contrasting the paleness of his skin. Harry, not wanting to appear strange by heading to the counter and examining him up close, decided to intervene and draw the boy's attention.

"A future wizarding legend...?" inquired Harry.

Startled at the existence of a third party in the shop, the blonde boy turned around and looked at Harry. Once Harry saw the boy's eyes, however, a slight shiver ran down his spine. According to his teacher, the sort of reaction that a truly powerful wizard gets when peering into the eyes on another person usually gave a good inclination into the person's character. Harry suddenly regretted the position that curiosity led him to, as now he was confronted with a person that he'd regret meeting.

"Of COURSE a wizarding legend! I am a Malfoy, after all...coming from a noble and distinct family of true, pure-blood wizards! I will undoubtedly make my family name proud, and uphold the tradition of being a mighty and powerful Slytherin," replied the boy, huffing his chest out.

The word Slytherin somehow registered in Harry's mind. In a heartbeat, Harry remembered that Slytherin was a house division in Hogwarts. If he was going to be a Slytherin...it means that he's going to Hogwarts, realized Harry. Holding back a groan, the Boy Who Lived decided the best course of action would be to simply agree and leave the shop. After all, he saw all the owls there, so there was no need to stay.

The boy, whom Harry gathered was a "Malfoy" (whatever that meant), looked at Harry with a slight bit of curiousity. "What about your parents?"

Harry gestured towards the outside with his thumb. "They're off buying my items for school while I look around."

The boy didn't seem to be really paying attention to Harry. He already returned to waiting for his owl, yet he still continued to converse with the Boy Who Lived half-heartedly. "Yes, well my father is off buying my equipment too...the best equipment, mind you. Although I cannot wait to get a racing broom. Honestly, I don't see why first years can't have their own...I'll probably have to smuggle one in somehow."

Harry just nodded, slowly inching toward the door.

The blonde child turned back to Harry. "Do you have your own broom?"

Harry became a little perplexed. "Uh...not really, my mum and I usually use magic to clean around our home..."

The boy sneered. "No, you dolt, a racing broom for Quidditch."

Harry's mind suddenly recalled the wizarding game mentioned in his texts. Images of people flying on brooms, passing a Quaffle, and chasing a Snitch appeared in his mind. "Oh...no, not really..."

"Play Quidditch at all?" continued the boy, tapping impatiently on the counter for the shopkeep to get his bird from its perch on the ceiling.

"No," replied Harry.

"Well I do...frankly, my father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house...although that won't happen. Only fools would do such a thing, and Slytherins are anything but fools."

Harry could've sworn that he was disliking this person more and more by the second. Thankfully, the shopkeeper chose that moment to give Malfoy his owl and cage, allowing Harry to escape the scene. Not one to stray from manners, Harry quickly said a "Well gotta go bye-bye see you at school" hastily as he left the shop. The boy inside seemed not to notice or care.

Outside of the shop, Harry sighed. I'm gonna have THAT kind of person as a classmate, thought Harry. Not one to dwell on his predicaments (as living in a cave secluded from the outside world can do that to a person), he continued his walking tour of Diagon Alley. A few steps away from the shop, however, he could hear the boy leaving with his newly-acquired owl, who was rattling around in the cage. Harry turned around and saw the boy apparently hitting the cage, angrily yelling at the bird to calm down and obey him. The bird seemed reluctant to go with its master.

Poor bird, thought Harry.

The boy dropped the cage right onto the pavement and proceeded to kick it, causing the bird to panic more as the cage fell sideways onto the street. The blonde Slytherin-to-be kept kicking the cage, yelling at his bird to be obedient to its new master.

Seeing the bird in anguish, Harry began to feel sympathy for the creature. After all, that bird would have to serve the boy for as long as he chooses, and that could be a long and torturous lifetime. Wishing to at least stop the boy from attacking, Harry quickly ducked into a nearby alleyway. He hid himself from plain sight within the dark, quickly looking back and forth to see if anybody was watching him. Thankfully, the sight of a spoiled brat attacking a bird cage can draw more attention than most realize. With the coast clear, Harry lifted his right hand toward the boy. Squinting in concentration, Harry began to think of something...hot.

A few seconds later, unknown to the boy as he attacked the cage, the tip of his robe was glowing red. Then orange. Then yellow. Then it stopped glowing altogether, as the robe edge found itself lit on fire.

The boy continued to kick the cage until he suddenly felt a wave of heat rush over him. He smelled a little smoke, but could not figure out the origin of the scent. After a moment, he turned his attention away from the bird...

...and onto the growing fire at the tail and rear of his robe.

Fear, horror, surprise, and panic can cause the most amazing effects on people, thought Harry, as he saw the boy run off at superhuman speeds in search of water. He waited until the crowd of onlookers became distracted with helping the boy on fire to run towards the cage.

Opening the cage door, Harry picked up the owl and, after a moment of talon scratching and wing flapping, managed to calm it down. The creature looked confused, although Harry's experience with animals during his training in the forests helped him easily pacify and make happy the little bird. Smiling, he raised his arm and jerked his wrist several times, telling the bird to fly away. The bird did just that, fluttering away a free owl courtesy of its child savior. Satisfied with his good deed towards an innocent living creature, Harry continued his stroll through Diagon Alley, enjoying the empty sidewalks as people continued to flock towards the fleeing boy on fire.

-----

After purchasing almost all the items needed and enough black robes to last several lifetimes, Merlin and Nimue found themselves walking past a particularly crowded place. Nimue noticed this and began to wonder at what could possibly draw so much attention in such a fascinating, bustling marketplace. Also letting her curiousity take control, she stopped walking with Merlin, causing him to stop as well.

"What's the matter, dear?" inquired Merlin, although he could have guessed judging by the look of interest she had on the building they were passing.

"What's this...'Leaky Cauldron'? There seem to be so many people inside...yet this entire place is magnificent! Whatever lies beyond those doors must be far more amazing!"

Merlin shrugged. "What's so amazing about this place in the first place? It's just a marketplace...honestly, it would have been easier to just create Harry's school items than multiply the funds we had just to purchase them..."

Nimue turned to her husband, a look of shock on her face. "'What's so amazing'! Why, they have frogs made of chocolate that still move, yet they taste so delectable! They...they have brooms that not only fly, but can be used to RACE each other! Why, there are bookstores with books that are invisible, or read themselves to you! Little toys that remind you of things that you'd forget...such a useful invention, especially after a few centuries! And...and hair-straightening potion, Merlin! Potions that can do so much!"

Merlin just blinked. "Honey...we have magic spells that could do all that for you..."

Nimue sighed. "That's not the point, Merlin..."

"Then what is the 'point', Nimue?"

Nimue pinched the bridge of her nose. "Merlin...there's a difference between reading a book on a tiger, and actually seeing one in person."

"Yes...reading about one is far safer and won't lead to you getting ripped apart and turned into poo."

Nimue, ignoring the fact that her erudite husband just used the word "poo," decided that it was pointless to continue arguing and walked into the Leaky Cauldron, causing an exasperated Merlin to reluctantly follow.

-----

Intuitively realizing that his mentor would never, EVER, get a wand for Harry, the Boy Who Lived approached the narrow, shabby store known as Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. The tinkering bell resonated throughout the tiny shop.

"Good afternoon!" came a soft voice. Apparently hearing peoples' voices without seeing them first is the theme of the day, thought a startled Harry Potter.

Harry saw an old man suddenly appear before him, standing up and staring with wide, pale eyes that shined amidst the gloom of the shop.

Harry waved. "Uh, hi."

The man looked at Harry carefully. "Hrm...Harry Potter, huh. And I thought you were dead."

Harry shrugged. "Well...the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."

The man smiled. "Heh, nice sense of humor, just like your father. You also have your mother's eyes, too."

Harry's face suddenly grew serious. "You...you knew my parents?"

The man continued to examine Harry. "Of course I did...made their wands myself. Your mother, she had a ten and a quarter inch long willow wand...good for charms. Your father...he favored mahogany, eleven inches. Excellent for transfiguration. Of course...the wands choose the wizards though, not the other way around."

The man, whom Harry deduced to be Mr. Ollivander himself, moved closer to Harry's scar. "Hrm...sorry, looks like I sold the wand that made this little beast...thirteen and a half inches, quite powerful...too bad it was in the wrong hands."

Harry began feeling uncomfortable...partially due to the silvery eyes of Mr. Ollivander, mostly due to the unwanted references to his deceased parents and the man who killed them. Mr. Ollivander pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings from his pocket. "What's your wand arm?"

Assuming that the wand arm was his dominant arm, Harry replied, "My right."

"Hold out your arm. There we go..." Mr. Ollivander's tape measure began measuring all of Harry by itself, much to the boy's surprise. He continued to watch the measure work, ignoring the speech that the old man was making about the quality of his wands.

When the measurements were finished, Mr. Ollivander returned to the shelves and began searching for wands. However, just as he pulled one out for Harry to try, he noticed that Harry was staring at a particular box in the shelves. Looking toward where Harry was looking, Mr. Ollivander grabbed the other box instead and approached Harry.

He handed a wand to the Boy Who Lived. "Here...you seem to be a bit drawn by this one...try it out."

Harry didn't know why he was looking at that particular box with that particular wand in it, yet he felt strangely drawn to look at it. It was an absent-minded action, yet still one that seemed a bit...peculiar to the student of Merlin. He took the wand offered of him, feeling a strange warmth enter his fingertips. Streams of red and gold sparks shot from the tip, while light poured from it all around the walls. Mr. Ollivander, however, looked particularly surprised.

"Bravo, Mr. Potter. Strange, though..."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Strange...?"

Mr. Ollivander stared at Harry. "That wand happens to have a tail feather from a phoenix who also gave another feather to another wand...the wand that gave you that scar."

Harry contained his surprise to the best of his ability. "...Oh?"

Mr. Ollivander nodded. "Yes...thirteen and a half inches. Surely a great wand for a great wizard, although...He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was also a great wizard, albeit a terrible one..."

Harry just nodded, a creepy feeling that he could not describe running through his veins.

-----

It was a tiny, grubby place, the Leaky Cauldron. Despite being dark and shabby, the amount of people inside proved how famous the pub actually was. For Nimue and Merlin, however, they were used to dark and shabby places; after all, they did live in a cave.

The couple took a seat at the bar. Nimue immediately ordered the most popular drink on the menu, a butterbeer, while Merlin looked around the room and examined the people around him. There were a few old women in the corner, a little man with a top hat who was quite bald, and a giant of a man with a scraggly beard. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the scraggly-bearded giant as the man who tried to take Harry the night after his parents' death. Worst, he was young that night, as young as he was now. Realizing this and containing his surprise, Merlin got up from his seat and began to slowly but surely walk out of the bar.

"Nimue...we have to go," he beckoned his wife.

Nimue, who was finishing her second butterbeer, refused. "Why?"

Merlin still looked panicked, but somehow kept his calm. "Just...just trust me! It's not safe, at least, not now. We have to go. NOW."

Nimue began her third butterbeer, ignoring her husband's requests. "It's not dangerous! hic You're just saying that to get out of here!"

Merlin looked at his wife as if she were a madwoman, and realized that there was no way he could get her to leave without mentioning Harry's name. If Harry was mentioned, however, Merlin feared attracting the giant's attention despite the rather large crowd. Not willing to take any risks and since Nimue was not the one in danger, Merlin relented. "Fine, I'm still leaving...you just meet us back at the spot as soon as you're done, ok!"

Nimue just nodded her compliance as she finished her third butterbeer.

Merlin frantically started weaving through the crowds in order to escape. However, the room was quite packed, and somewhere amidst the shoving, Merlin found himself bumping into nearly everyone, causing him to apologize silently and profusely. He almost made it to the door when he bumped into one more person who was, oddly enough, also trying to leave the Leaky Cauldron. Merlin bumped into this person and quickly made his apologies, yet the man would not move. Looking up, he saw the same face of the burly, bearded man in the pub who appeared the night he took Harry. The giant looked down at Merlin, blinking at first, his eyes widening as soon as the recognition struck him.

"YOU...!"

Before Hagrid could continue his sentence, Merlin ran with speed more characteristic to a cheetah than a human. Stunned and suddenly infuriated, Hagrid immediately followed after him.

Nimue finally reached her fifth butterbeer, smiling with blissful ignorance of what happened to her husband.

-----

Merlin ran out of the pub, weaving his way through the massive crowd. He saw Harry walking by in the horizon and immediately started calling for him, hoping that maybe Harry's presence could stop the giant of a man from attacking him.

"HARRY! HARRY!"

Unfortunately for the ageless wizard, Harry could not hear him among the spirited chattering and socializing of the pub patrons right outside of the Leaky Cauldron. Even though the master wizard could easily stop the giant with a spell, there were too many people around the marketplace to use one inconspicuously. If Merlin used magic, he would not only be using an ancient spell in public, but he'd also increase the potential risk of giving away his secret identity. The fact that he did not use a wand and his normal repertoire of magic greatly differed from an average wizard's did not help make the choice easier. However, as Hagrid rapidly approached him from the crowd, the situation called for drastic measures, and the only way for Merlin to win against a giant was to simply be Merlin, the greatest wizard of all time.

Before he could use a spell, however, a young blonde boy with flaming robes suddenly ran by, slamming into the burly man. Thankfully for Merlin, the giant also had a butterbeer or two back in the bar. Not many people realize that butterbeer does indeed contain a trace amount of alcohol in it. The fact that Hagrid's beard was set ablaze proved this.

"SOMEBODY PUT THIS FIRE OUT!"

"AYE, MINE TOO!"

The patrons heard the boy and the half-giant's cry and dispersed from the front of the Leaky Cauldron towards the flaming victims, giving Merlin enough space to run towards an amused yet surprised Harry Potter.

Fortunately for the duo, there were many people pouring numerous drinks on them in the effort of putting out the flames. However, butterbeer further proved itself to be a beverage with a miniscule yet noticeable amount of alcohol in it...and alcohol and fire mix in the most amusing of ways.

"IT'S GETTING WORSE! SOMEBODY STOP IT!"

"ARGH, ME BEARD!"

Several patrons were able to rip the butterbeer-soaked flaming robe off of the boy, while the giant had to stop, drop and roll the fire out. Merlin turned to his pupil and looked at him sternly. Harry tried to avoid his mentor's gaze, but to no avail.

"Harry..." said Merlin harshly, "Did you light that boy on fire!"

Knowing that lying was useless, Harry just nodded his concurrence, silent out of shame.

Merlin suddenly cracked a smile and laughed, causing Harry to look with surprise at his teacher.

"Heh, great job, Harry...great job."

Ignorant of the fact that the fire just saved Merlin's life and identity, Harry just smiled and decided to take advantage of his good fortune rather than question it.

Nimue finally came out of the Leaky Cauldron, her movements a little tipsy. She spoke with a slightly slurred voice to the two men in her life, "SoOoOo...everyone ready to go home yet? Hehe...hic..."

Merlin and Harry just nodded, both satisfied with the outcomes of a slightly burnt blonde-haired boy and distracted, burly gamekeeper. They headed off to an empty alley and teleported home in time for dinner, school supplies in hand and all happy in one way or another.

-----

"Now Harry, you promise to be on your best behavior, ok? If you need anything at all...help, food, maybe some laundry or flowers, just let us know and we'll be right there! Ok, honey?"

"Oh, the bloody...Harry can take care of himself, Nimue! Let the boy be."

"Well, he's still my son Merlin, and tomorrow's his first day of school...oh, I'm going to miss you so much..."

"It's alright mum...I'll be alright, and I'll see you on the holidays..."

"Oh, I know you'll be alright..."

"Then would you let the boy get some rest already? Honestly..."

"Just let me hold my boy for a little longer...you don't mind, do you, Harry?"

"No...but mum..."

"Yes, Harry?"

"...I...can't breathe..."

"NIMUE! You're going to kill him if you hold him any tighter!"

-----

For Harry Potter, that night would be the last night for a long time that he would sleep in the cave under Merlin's Mound. His surrogate family stayed in his room for most of the evening, as his surrogate mother seemed to have difficulties letting go of her only child, and his surrogate father tried to help pry him free so he can rest. Tomorrow, after all, would be the first day of the rest of his life, a new life in a new environment with new people and new adventures. Nimue offered to go with him, although such as idea was not feasible for a boarding school. The only demand Merlin made was for Harry to continue to practice his wandless magic, although he expects Harry to master the wand nonetheless. Despite his chagrin for the tool, it was important for Harry to master any and all forms of magic if he is to truly become great.

In his bed, Harry closed his eyes, slowly lulling himself into the comforting arms of rest. He awaited a wonderful dream to lead him into the wonderful reality of tomorrow, smiling and hopeful of the future to come.

-----

Harry opened his eyes.

The familiar rocky ceiling of his bedroom no longer stood before him. Instead, a dark veil with a texture of silk seemed to take its place in front of Harry's line of sight. He looked around, only to find nothing but the veil present. Fully dressed and standing instead of lying on his bed, Harry immediately assumed that he was in a dream. Why else would he find himself upright and fully dressed when the last action he took was fall asleep? Curious as to what this imaginary situation had to offer, the Boy Who Lived approached through the veil. Passing through it, a blinding light flashed into Harry's eyes. He blinked, only to open his eyes and see that he was suddenly falling from the sky. Panicked, Harry immediately thought of the best spells for the situation at hand.

Before he could use any, the veil suddenly returned, gliding through the sky towards him smoothly. It wrapped itself onto Harry, covering him from head to toe. The moment his eyes became covered, the sensation of falling disappeared, and he found himself standing on hard pavement. Flailing his arms to remove the veil, Harry found himself looking at a huge castle lit magically with torches as numerous as the stars. The castle appeared to be on an island, and Harry's deductive skills caused him to look down at his feet.

I'm standing on water, thought Harry.

SPLASH!

Well, he WAS standing on water.

The ground underneath him shattered like glass, causing Harry to fall into the water. He plunged deeper and deeper into the depths of an endless body of water that seemed to exist infinitely, with no end or borders in sight. He couldn't breathe at all, which scared him immensely. He thought, how could a dream feel so painfully real? Struggling to rise above the waters, Harry suddenly saw the veil reappear again, dispersing into the dark aquatic environment like a drop of blood dispersing into water. The veil surrounded him once again, and as the lack of air made Harry's lungs burn to the point of going unconscious, Harry could've sworn that he saw two glowing, crimson eyes appear within the murky depths.

That was when Harry woke up, panicked and perturbed, sweating at the sheer reality of his unexpected fantasy.

-----

Deep within the darkest mountains of a forgotten place, something stirred.

These mountains found themselves existing within a land of pure, unbridled darkness. The night had enveloped the landscape, a blanket of black covering the scene with its satin form. Not a single rock ever fell from this mass of rock, nor has any bird ever traversed the dead sky filling the spaces between this ancient land. Akin to Avalon, a mist thicker than blood creeped around, through, along, and inside this mountain range. Time seemed not to exist within this realm, for nothing moved or lived or acted or changed. This place merely existed.

But...something stirred. And with it came a sound so small that nothing in the universe could ever have heard it, especially in such a dark and forgotten place.

Yet the sound still existed. Something still stirred.

And suddenly...a scream.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

All at once, the mist recoiled as a sharp spear of sound pierced through its core, ripping it apart and away from the very mountainside. The mountains themselves shattered into rock and sand at the very force of the cry. Debris of the fallout flew everywhere, through the sea of darkness and into the nothingness. The very night found itself twisting away from the monstrous howl, a cacophony of ear-shattering noise seemingly tormenting its very existence.

The darkness receded, running away from the creature whose scream shattered the sky. The entity crawled through the wasteland of rubble with its bloodied hands and knees, its pale skin rippling with newfound life. Within the recoiling darkness crawled a being with glowing crimson eyes, breathing into its lungs the very darkness itself, as if it were feeding on the emptiness of the environment surrounding it.

Struggling after each movement, the solitary figure found itself alive once again, although fatigue and weakness ultimately overtook it. Before it could succumb to the slumber of the living, however, the night found itself hearing a final utterance before becoming consumed by the creature...

"Am...bro...sius..."

-----

Far away, Merlin woke up from his restful slumber, eyes wide open as a chill suddenly ran through his spine.

And the strangest thing was...he had no idea why.

-----

NEXT TIME: Magical Mystery Tour

-----

Author's Note:

"The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."

Ok, so...what happened to me and my fic? 2 things.

#1: Reality. Homework, extracurriculars, and the need/desire to read/write new stuff all added onto my extensively long hiatus. Yes, I did indeed read the much-anticipated 5th HP book, although it doesn't affect my storyline at all, since so many fics out there already addressed the Harry/Voldemort connection...and frankly, I read them all.

#2: Writer's Block. Except the block was more like a planet. After introducing a new character, I found myself written into a corner that I never, EVER wanted to do...the name of the afforementioned character was given away not to incite a love interest, but rather to hint at something. At any rate, I revised my story, so her name has been subtracted...anybody who's gonna complain, well...the second I took her name out of the story was the second I began writing this fic again.

No, seriously.

Well...that and the e-mails. The fact that people actually care about my fic made me want to continue it...thanks to all the people who e-mailed and reviewed, forcing me to feel guilty enough to deal with my writer's block. As for the future of this fic...yes, I do plan on continuing it, although I'm not the most prolific of writers...I have other original fiction ideas that I've been pursuing.

As for the love interest...well, I'm still keeping that open. I mean, I have a particular choice that I'm leaning towards based on Harry's new personality, but the definite choice is still up for grabs.

Final note: The last few chapters were slightly revised to fit into my improved writing style, as well as the removal of my writer's block. Hope none of you are too ticked. Chapter 4 is almost finished, although the change that eliminated my writer's block did indeed alter some aspects of the story...hopefully I'll clean it up in under a year.

Again, I apologize for the lateness, and I'm really thankful to those of you who are still fans...again, reviews and e-mails are the only things that let me know this story's good enough for me to continue working on. While I love writing, I have so many ideas and projects that I don't always have the time I'd like to do them all, and because of your dedication I'm keeping this one alive. After all, a writer needs criticism, and this one fic's actually getting some. Thanks!

E-Mail: (feel free to e-mail me)  
AIM: SeraphicZero (feel free to IM me, although I'm rarely online under that sn)  
Mail: P.O. Box 459 (feel free to send me money! j/k...maybe) 


	4. Chapter 4:Magical Mystery Tour

insert disclaimer HERE

Merlin has always been the greatest wizard in history. However, he never taught his magic to anyone else; he buried his power along with his name. But what if he found the perfect student to teach? And what it was little Harry Potter?

-----

The Student of Merlin By SeraphZero

-----

Chapter 4: Magical Mystery Tour

"Happiness is not a station you arrive at, but a manner of traveling." - Margaret B. Runbeck

-----

The sun rose, illuminating the dark sky with a cascade of crimson and golden light. The early birds began their morning rituals, cluttering the air with a cacophony of chirping and fluttering wings. Morning dew began to develop, as the chill of the night washed away under the blanket of growing warmth that the sun provided each and every morning. The end of the night, and the beginning of a new day; while ordinary for the rest of the world, the descent of the cold dark night to the illumination of the sun seemed fitting for the great event that was about to unfold for an 11-year-old boy with messy black hair and a lightning-shaped scar.

For today, today would be the day Harry Potter went to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It is questionable to say that nobody could've possibly been more excited as Harry...

"HARRY, PLEASE, THE TRAIN WILL NOT BE HEADING OUT FOR 4 MORE BLOODY HOURS! STOP MAKING A RACKET WITH YOUR BAGS AND GO BACK TO SLEEP!"

...but without a doubt, nobody could have been more cranky than the legendary Merlin that morning.

-----

While the excitement of a new frontier filled with his peers certainly excited the young wizard, Harry did not return to his slumber wholly due to that enthusiasm. The 11-year-old prodigy was far too young to not be disturbed by the haunting vision that appeared in his rest. He believed that nothing harmful occurred to his subconscious self, yet the feeling of such cold darkness still bothered him. Harry, rich in knowledge but poor in wisdom on the subject of omens, could only subside the matter and hope that answers would be revealed to him in due time. Patience, as his mentor constantly reinforced in the boy, was a powerful ally.

Curiousity, on the other hand, was a troublesome little bugger.

Harry laid his bags, well packed yet enchanted to be as light as clouds, on the stone ground of his cavern room and extracted from one of them his newly-acquired wand. He examined his new toy thoroughly, a look of amusement on his face as the concept of magic being harnassed within a simple piece of wood crossed his young mind. He looked hard at the wand, examining every intricate fiber of its craftsmanship in the hopes of unraveling what secrets laid inside.

A devilish thought crossed his mind at that point. Experience is the mother of all knowledge, thought Harry...

He waved the wand back and forth for a few moments before settling upon a singular wrist flick motion. Carefully kicking his bag aside to make room, the adventurous young mage positioned himself upright upon the bed, sitting cross-legged and staring directly at the small carpet that covered the cavern grounds. With a look of determination, Harry pointed the wand at the rug, a slight gleam appearing in his eyes at the mystery that lay behind casting his first wand-oriented spell.

Harry had grown accustomed to using hand motions, verbal commands, and even drawing seals to activate and harnass the incredible magical force that Merlin taught him. To focus all of his knowledge and potential power into a mere movement of a wooden object, he thought, should be no different.

His hand started to tremble a little in excitement. He focused, attempting his best to channel his magic through the wand as he held it in front of him and pointed towards the rug. With several deep breaths, Harry braced himself for whatever unimaginable possibilities could occur...for all he knew, the rug could come alive, or be teleported to New Zealand, or even transform into a giant dragon grave.

A slight shiver ran down Harry's spine at that thought.

Another deep breath, and the young mage was ready. Gulping down whatever fear he had left in him, he prepared himself for a bold new experience. He raised his wand, flicked it towards the rug...

FWOOM

...and promptly lit the rug on fire. A rather large fire, at that.

Harry blinked. Hard.

Why does it always have to be fire!

-----

Despite his protests to the ruckus that his favorite student was causing, Merlin himself could not go back to sleep.

Ignoring the sounds of water spells being cast in another room, the ageless wizard lay awake beside Nimue, staring at the cavern ceilings, peering into them with his mercurial eyes. Deep thought swirled within his mind in contemplation of the ensuing changes to come. He found it impossible to remotely relent his musings in exchange for pleasant slumber. For all his wisdom, understanding, and insightfulness, only one unyielding statement remained in his mental faculties.

His only student was going to have teachers.

...ok, so maybe he wasn't thinking all that deeply.

Nevertheless, Merlin pondered the possibilities that lay beyond the horizon for his pupil. New friends, adventures, and experiences were destined to be in Harry's grasp, yet no matter what, the ageless wizard could find no solice in the idea of new professors counseling his prodigy. Jealousy and doubt crept ever so slightly onto the fringes of the master magician's mind. He understood the irrationality behind feeling replaced in Harry's life by wizards who were weaker than he, yet their presence worried Merlin.

What if they're not good? What if their teachings are flawed? What if Harry is led astray? What if they prevent his from tapping into his full potential?

For a prophet who could peer into the misty shadows of the uncertain future, Merlin himself began to feel uncertain. No matter how much he assured himself of Harry's future welfare, the idea of leaving the boy unprepared for the ensuing tempests that would undoubtedly come to him was unbearable. Schooled in Hogwarts or not, Harry was still his student first and foremost.

A student with no real experience in interacting with other people. A student with a penchant towards setting things on fire. A student bearing both the fame and burden of defeating a dark wizard. A student who was still afraid of summoning because of one bad experience involving a reanimated dragon corpse. A student who was not ready to handle the great power that lay within him. A student destined to face hardships and enemies that no other boy should have to face in a lifetime.

Only a good teacher can lead his student through such tumultuous paths. And a teacher's most sacred duty is to never fail his student. No matter what.

-----

"Run the story over one more time, Harry."

A groan. "Do I have to?"

"Well, it's not like you're preoccupied at the moment."

"I think I'd consider breakfast as something that preoccupies."

"It doesn't preoccupy your vocal cords, Harry."

"Yesh ift duesh."

"HARRY! Don't eat with your mouth full!"

"Sorreth, momfth."

A sigh. "Harry, just once more, then you can go back to stuffing your mouth."

Some light chewing, followed by a gulp. "I was raised by a Muggle family just outside of Little Whinging, Surrey, in a small house completely isolated from the rest of the area. My parents' names were William and Mary Oswalt. I went to a private school and kept to myself, mostly, so therefore there is nobody in the area who could possibly recognize me."

A pause. "...William and Mary? Honestly, couldn't I have been raised by a couple with a more creative pair of names?"

If slight irritation could cause a sound, it would've been heard. "Your foster parents do not require any etymological significance whatsoever. What, did you want me to make an anagram out of 'Merlin and Nimue'?"

The sound of shrugging. "Just WHY are we doing this again?"

"Harry, how many times is my name mentioned in all your wizarding text books?"

"About 25 times per 2 books."

"And how many are you mentioned in?"

"About 50 times per 6 books."

Merlin crossed his arms and reclined on his chair at the breakfast table, small cracks of light pouring onto him in the magically lit dining room fo the cave. "I rest my case. Do you WANT the rest of the wizarding community to be on you? You'll have enough to deal with so long as you keep the name Harry Potter...though I still say you could've chosen a different surname and they'd be none the wiser."

Harry's face matured rapidly in a matter of seconds at the suggestion. His brow narrowed, a resolute and determined look falling over his 11-year-old visage. "I want to be a Potter."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "You want to deal with the fame and scrutiny?"

The Boy Who Lived looked his mentor dead-on in the eyes, surprising the technically-ancient wizard. "...I want to honor my birthparents."

Silence fell upon the breakfast table. Merlin and Harry continued to stare off as Nimue quietly prodded into her eggs, head bent low.

Harry continued his gaze. "It's all I have left of them, fame be damned."

Nimue's head snapped up immediately. "HARRY! Watch you language at the table!"

In the blink of an eye, Harry's look of maturity crashed, the face of a young boy being chastised by his mother remaining in its wake. "Yes mum."

Merlin supressed a chuckle. The boy's getting older, but at least he's still a boy, thought Merlin. With the moment of silence averted, Merlin joined his family in their morning orchestra of chewing and swallowing.

Harry continued to down his eggs as if he spent his entire life starving in a cupboard under some stairs. A thought occurred to the lad after finishing off another sausage. "How come I never received a telegram from them? The headmasters, I mean."

Merlin took a sip of tea before addressing his pupil. "Well, we happen to be secured with magic seals strong enough to block off any and all detection, Harry. It also helps that our magics happen to be far too ancient to be detectable by the modern wizarding community."

Chew and swallow. "So if they can't send me an invitation, how did I get in? I mean, what if they kick me out for not ACTUALLY being picked for their school?"

Another sip. "It's an automated system, Harry. It's fairly easy for me to create an application and an invitation, even if they happen to be magically charmed." A wave of the hand, and POOF!

More chewing and swallowing. "Ah."

Merlin dropped the parchment pockmarked with the word "Hogwarts" on it. "And remember Harry, Rule 1."

Harry nodded in mid-chew. "Nefer thow or menshion anfing GULP that says 'Hey! Merlin's alive!'"

Merlin nodded. "And just what does that entail...?"

Harry's brow furrowed for a moment before reciting, as if practiced, "No use of wandless magic in public, no mentioning of tutelage, and above all else, play dumb." A pause. "Very dumb, if need be."

"Good boy."

The orchestra continued to play once again. Amidst the chorus, the sound of sniffing.

"You smell a little burnt, Harry."

-----

For the most powerful wizarding family in history, the leisurely walk was a sacred pasttime.

Rather than teleporting right next to King's Cross, the family unanimously, albeit silently, elected to appear further away from the train station, in yet another dark and unoccupied alleyway. While those areas proved to be far safer to magically appear in, it was the melange of alterior motives that led to the family's decision to stroll there.

For Harry, the sights of modern-day Britain, albeit limited to just a couple blocks, were too intriguingly new to avoid. For Merlin, the opportunity to converse with his pupil before sending him off bordered on being a necessity instead of a preferance. And for Nimue, the chance to enjoy being a family one last time, complete and whole, was unquestionably vital.

So they walked along the bustling streets of England, anonymous from the rest of the Muggle world. The sun continued to drown the country with its waves of warmth and light on the clear, chilly afternoon. The bags were packed and, for the sake of appearances, dragged along by Merlin and Harry (though not without at least a few lightness charms). The family wore their Sunday best for the occasion, or what could have been assumed to be their Sunday best, seeing as they never went to church and it was not a Sunday. Harry wore another handknit sweater made by Nimue and slacks and Nimue was in another conservative dress. Merlin, once again attempting to remain inconspicuous, donned a nice navy blue business suit. Much to the initial entertainment and ensuing chagrin of his family members, he matched the suit with a magical, albeit stereotypical, fake mustache, a monocle, a top hat, and a cane. Seeing his father in disguise reminded him of the man from the American game "Monopoly."

A car passed by them, drawing Harry's attention immediately. His eyes widened, their emerald irises glowing with awe. "A car! With a real combustion engine!"

Merlin smiled, wondering what kind of 11-year-old boy would actually make note of the "real combustion engine." "Yes Harry, that was a car. They're quite popular with the Muggles. Remember, though, contain your astonishment as much as possible when you get to Hogwarts. You grew up in a nice home with a nice family in Little Whinging. The Muggle world should seem commonplace in your experience."

Harry nodded his acknowledgement. His eyes betrayed him, however, as they danced from each car to each streetlamp and each building that existed on their path.

"BIG BEN!"

Merlin and Nimue chuckled as he pointed towards the famous clocktower. A thought quickly crossed Merlin's mind. He reached into his suit pocket and retrieved a small, heavy pouch. Tapping Harry's shoulder for his attention, Merlin gave his ward the pouch.

Without opening it, Harry looked to his mentor. "What's in the sack?"

Merlin looked around and lowered his voice. "50 Galleons. They're the most valuable currency in the wizarding world, but try not to spend it all. Frugality is a good thing to master, after all."

Harry nodded and, understanding the need for privacy on discussing wizard matters in the Muggle world, opted to peruse his monetary capacity later. Pcoketing the pouch, he began to wonder where a wizard living in a cave could have possibly procured such money. "Alchemy?"

Merlin quickly glanced at the boy and smiled. "Sharp mind, Harry."

"Won't people find out, though?"

Merlin continued to look around. "Just because they were produced by alchemy doesn't make them any less real, Harry."

Harry nodded, the sight of a VW Beetle suddenly drawing his attention back to the road.

-----

"What must you always remember, Harry?"

"Rule 1."

"What else?"

"Always be on my guard."

"Oh, come now Merlin, he's just going to school!"

"That doesn't mean he has to forsake his safety, Nimue."

"Safety? It's a SCHOOL, Merlin. What's he in danger of? Man-eating textbooks?"

"It's a WIZARDING school, Nimue. There are a lot more of those than you realize."

The trio arrived at their destination of King's Cross sooner than any of them wanted. They stood outside the train station as the mass of commuters and boarding school students entered and left the facility. Harry was eager to run inside and see what a real train station looked like, but Merlin pulled him back before he could burst through the doors (literally, too, given the speed of Harry's sprint towards the door).

Harry shuffled slightly out of anxiousness. "Couldn't we go inside and talk about this?"

Merlin shook his head. "I'm afraid, Harry, that I cannot go inside with you."

Nimue snapped her head at her husband in a mix of shock and anger. The anxiousness drained from Harry's small frame as he lowered his head. "Oh."

Merlin noticed the change in Harry's demeanor while attempting to ignore his wife's glare. "I'm afraid that entering this...Platform 9 and three-quarters...would mean risking any further exposure to the wizarding community. We can't have that, Harry. Your mother will accompany you through the station, but once you get to the platform," Merlin turned to his wife, a serious look on his face, "you must be alone."

Nimue rolled her eyes in exasperation at Merlin's response. "Oh come now, Merlin! We're seeing Harry off! Don't be so bloody paranoid!"

Harry, however, raised his head and nodded his assent. "No, mum, I understand."

Nimue's face dropped as her surrogate son accepted his surrogate father's abadonment. "What?"

Harry shrugged. "My parents were William and Mary Oswalt, people that nobody should have ever met. Best not to give them a face to remember, right Papa?"

Merlin smiled. "Smart boy."

Nimue shook her head with resolution. "No! We are going to go in there as a family and we are seeing you off as a family!" She turned to her husband. "Nothing bad will come out of you being in a public setting full of wizards!"

Merlin and Harry looked at each other, their eyes sharing the same memory: the Diagon Alley incident.

Nimue looked at the two men in her life, confused. "What? What's the matter?"

Merlin sighed, a small grin appearing across his face as the image of a giant on fire returned to his mind's eye. "It's nothing, Nimue."

Harry mirrored his mentor's grin, the sight of a burning Slytherin boy popping up in his head instead. "Nothing at all, mum."

Merlin's grin started to crack. "Nope, nothing, nada...snicker"

Harry's grin simply exploded. "BWAHAHA!"

Merlin joined his young protege in laughter while Nimue, confused beyond all reason, just stood there and watched the two most important men in her life cackle like idiots. Not knowing quite what to do, she simply sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "My family is full of bloody idiots."

-----

Merlin had little else to say to Harry other than "remember Rule 1" and "don't forget Rule 1." The Boy Who Lived thought that his teacher of 11 years would feel more emotionally conflicted over seeing his only pupil leave, but his expectations proved to be false. All he noticed was that Merlin had a glint in his eye, the kind of glint that always warned Harry that the ageless mage knew what he was doing and had far more planned than one would think. Any other boy would have felt slighted by such action, but Harry was not any other boy. Years of trust built between the two gave the 11-year-old a level of faith in the ancient wizard that was unwaivering. If Merlin had a reason for not worrying about leaving his student, then Harry surmised that he too should have good reason to not worry about leaving his teacher.

Nimue, however, was a different matter altogether. They entered the train station together, mother and son. She wanted to cherish these last few moments as much as possible. Together, they strolled through the station, bags in tow, looking around and marvelling at the modern world. They watched in awe as trains came and went, to and from the station, with steam fuming out and wheels churning. They shared in the curiousity and excitement of this alien world that Harry was going to be a part of, and Nimue wanted to follow for as long as she could.

At moments, Nimue looked at Harry, watching in admiration at the fine young man her son grew up to be. She relished the mental photographs of their gardening, Harry pigging out on her baked goods, Nimue admonishing him for setting something on fire. She began taking yet another set of mental photographs, this time of her only child embarking on his first steps towards truly growing up.

They will have to suffice until the summer, thought Nimue. She laughed a little to herself, unbeknownst to Harry. She found it silly to feel so overemotional. She prided herself on being a good mother, not the kind that becomes a wreck when her son is about to leave. Then again, when this is only son you've ever had after countless centuries of living in a cave with a rather depressed demi-god, overemotional seems forgiveable.

The two arrived at Platform 9 shortly. The lack of a Platform 9 and three-quarters confused the two, however.

Nimue looked around. "I don't see a Platform 9 and three-quarters. Are you sure the directions were correct, Harry?"

Harry furrowed his young brow, a habit he learned from his teacher. "Papa said that this might be the case."

"What case?"

Harry set his belongings down. "That the platform might be hidden from sight. After all, if it's a train for wizards, why would it be in plain sight for Muggles to get on it?"

Nimue smiled. "Yes, I suppose that would seem illogical."

Harry nodded. "It's 9 and three-quarters, so it's probably between Platforms 9 and 10. We can't use any spells to find it since somebody might see, so we're just going to have to sense it out."

Nimue was slightly surprised by this. "Oh? Has Merlin taught you that already?"

Harry shrugged. "Sorta. He said it wasn't something that you teach a wizard...it's more something that you make a wizard notice."

"Is it...easy for you?"

Another shrug. "After a while, yeah, it got pretty easy."

Harry focused his senses on the area between Platforms 9 and 10. The feeling of several magical signatures meant that he was on the right track: wizards were grouped around that area. He focused a little more, trying to peer through the walls and structures with his mind's eye.

The barrier between tracks 9 and 10 started to flicker in Harry's mind. Focusing further on it, he saw what he was looking for: another area altogether.

With pride, he turned to his mother. "Found it."

Nimue smiled. Centuries of being with Merlin, as well as personal experience in the field of magic, did not make Nimue ignorant to the workings of her wizard family. Unlike Harry, she knew exactly how significant it was for a wizard to sense magic. All wizards were capable of sensing magic, though the truth was that only the most powerful could consistently and easily do so. Even during Arthur's reign, there were very few wizards who were capable of sensing magic to the degree of everyday use. For Harry to find it easy when many wizards spent countless hours to correctly detect magic was astonishing.

For the sake of humility, she refrained from telling her son this fact. "Good job, Harry."

Harry smiled and jumped into a hug with his mother. "Thanks, mum. I gotta go though alone, though...papa's right about the cover story."

Nimue slowly dropped to one knee to properly reach Harry's height. Still hugging, Nimue stiffled any possible tears from streaming down her face.

For all his maturity and tutelage, Harry did the same.

Shared thoughts of playing with garden dirt and getting sick off of treacle fudge were silently occurring in their minds. Nimue, in trying to fill the void of silence, spoke up first. "Now you be good, ok? If anything bad happens, you get Archimedes to us and we'll be there no matter what, rain or snow or bloody hailstorms, ok?"

Harry nodded.

"Studies first, then have fun. Make friends, listen to your teachers, even if they aren't ancient, famous wizards. You were taught by the best, I expect you to be the best, ok?"

Another nod.

"Eat well. No midnight snacks, unless it's fruit. Don't pig out too much on cake and fudge. I'll make sure Merlin weighs you when you get back, ok?"

Another nod.

"And you make sure to write as much as possible. Just because you're away doesn't mean you stopped being my son, ok?"

Another nod.

For Harry, who was so eager to leave the nest of Merlin's Mound to explore the world, there were no words capable of encapsulating the emotion he felt for the woman who raised him, who took him in when his biological parents were murdered, who provided him the nurturing emotion to his mentor's stern reason, who ultimately was the reason for his adventure into Hogwarts in the first place.

He would return in the summer, of course, but the step he was about to take would change everything. His time in the forest as a bird, a chipmunk, any animal...they all taught him one very valuable thing: when you leave the nest, you can never truly return to it. These were ideas that were too complex for the 11-year-old boy to express, more complex than even Merlin's theories on the function of magic on the astral plane, and at that moment, he knew it. He knew, for all the intelligence and wisdom his teacher granted him, he was still an 11-year-old boy, and still too young to truly understand the bond between a mother and son.

His biological mother died to protect him, and his surrogate mother dedicated her life to raising him.

All he could do was hug the latter, and that's all Nimue needed.

-----

Nimue exited the station and met her husband right outside the door. The ageless wizard looked at his wife, expecting her eyes to be red and tear-soaked. He was slightly surprised by the self-control Nimue exhibited; historically, her emotions tended to get the better of her sometimes. It was the main reason why they functioned so well together: she tended to lean towards the emotional side of life, while he strayed further into the cynical, reason-dominated end of the spectrum.

The first reasonable idea that entered Merlin's mind was to hug his wife, which he did without hesitation.

Nimue returned the hug in earnest, glad to still have her love of the past few centuries still by her side.

She pulled away and looked at Merlin in his twinkling eyes. "He's going to be ok, isn't he?"

Merlin nodded.

"He's going to do great things."

Merlin smiled. "The greatest."

The oldest couple in wizard history shared a small kiss together. "We did a good job, didn't we?"

Merlin took his wife's arm. "The best any child can hope for."

Nimue nodded. "I hope so."

Merlin smirked. "I know so."

And so, with the trio trickling into a duo, the two began their sacred family pasttime towards the alleyway and back into life.

-----

Harry Potter was ready to begin his new life.

He just needed to figure out how to get there, first.

The barrier between the 9th and 10th tracks was clearly an illusion, he knew that much. He sensed it, he saw it, he knew without a doubt where his train was.

And yet, the thought of running into a wall still seemed a bit...unnerving.

Like any good student, he examined the wall first, testing it. He tried knocking on it, and when his knuckles made contact with pure wall, doubt creeped into the 11-year-old's mind. Sure, it's probably a precaution for any snoopy Muggles, thought Harry.

Still, the thought of becoming a Potter pancake was not entertaining, regardless of the amusing alliteration.

"Hurry up now! We're going to be late!"

Harry turned around as a red-haired family approached him at full speed. He focused a tad to feel for a magic aura, and when his senses confirmed the existence of such magic, he smiled. He was about to meet another wizard family!

The family itself consisted of a pair of twins, an older looking boy who had a certain air of pretense around him, a meek boy around Harry's age, a girl who looked younger than the rest, and undoubtedly the mother, a large woman bustling her children by with an immense carriage of luggage.

"Ok now, Percy, you first!"

The older boy took his luggage and ran without hesitation into the barrier. Though startled, Harry felt relieved to see that his theory about the wall was correct.

The mother turned to one of the twins. "Fred, you're next."

The twin turned to his mother, indignant. "He's not Fred! I am!"

The other twin mirrored his brother's sentiment. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother"  
Exasperated, the mother apologized. "I'm sorry, George."

The first twin snickered. "Only joking! I'm Fred."

Harry chuckled a little as the twins ran through. Deciding not to wait any longer, he took his luggage and made a mad dash through the barrier.

-----

The feeling of running through the wall was surreal for Harry. The sight before him sanctified the emotion perfectly.

In front of his stood a beautiful train, marked carefully for Platform 9 and three-quarters. All around him were magical signatures, children his own age all ready to leave home for Hogwarts. The thrill returned to Harry's senses despite never leaving.

FWOMP

The feeling of pain as luggage slammed into him from the back joined the thrill.

"RONALD WEASLEY! APOLOGIZE TO THAT BOY!"

"Sorry, mate."

Pushed over but not onto the ground, Harry recomposed himself before turning around to greet his attacker. It was the boy who looked to be around his age, a gangly-tall child with red hair and a somewhat meek demeanor. Harry smiled.

"No worries at all! It's nice to meet you."

The boy named Ron nodded before dragging himself towards his brothers.

Harry's smile faded a little when the boy didn't return his sentiments. Harry reminded himself that not all schoolchildren were going to be nearly as enthusiastic about meeting their peers as he was. After all, most children never grew up secluded in a cave with an ancient wizard.

"Is this your first time, dear?"

Harry snapped out of his reverie to see the mother and daughter. He deduced that the mother had to be Mrs. Weasley, given how she addressed the boy named Ron.

Harry's smile perked up. "Yes it is, and I'm afraid I'm alone for it."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "It's Ron's first time to Hogwarts as well. I'm Mrs. Weasley and this is Ginny."

Harry's heart soared at the introduction. At least this time I got to the names, thought Harry, as his mind quickly remembered the first person he met outside of Merlin's Mound, and how quickly that ended.

"I'm Harry!"

Mrs. Weasley and the girl, Ginny, waited, as if expecting Harry to finish.

Slight hesitancy grabbed Harry. He knew this was going to happen. Taking a quick breath, he mentally prepared himself. "Harry Potter."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes went wide. So did Ginny's, though hers were less visible as she quickly ducked behind her mother, blushing terribly.

Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering if this was to be expected from every introduction he makes.

"My goodness...THE Harry Potter! The Boy Who Lived!"

Harry nodded. "Yep, that's...I guess that's me."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Well it's so nice to meet you! Well, you enjoy Hogwarts, ok? And make sure to eat well!" With that, Mrs. Weasley left to her boys, Ginny in tow.

Harry adjusted his silver spectacles. Eat well? What, was this the universal advice of every wizard mother on the planet?

-----

Merlin and Nimue returned to the mound in somber silence. At least, such was the case on Nimue's side. Merlin, however, seemed to be in deep contemplation.

Nimue sighed. "I guess I'll go change and start preparing dinner..."

Absentmindedly, instead of returning to her room, she found herself wandering into Harry's room, slowly attempting to accept the fact that her son was gone.

Merlin looked at his distraught wife with melancholy. There was nothing he could do to rectify the situation, and what he was about to do would probably make it worse. Still, he knew what he had to do, and no amount of sentiment would make him waiver.

"Mmm, I'm going to go out for a bit."

Depression turned into surprise for Nimue. "Out? Now? Since when do you go out?"

Merlin shrugged. "Since now, I guess."

Nimue gave her ageless husband a skeptical look. "Oh? And what will you be doing while you're 'out'?"

Merlin smiled. "That, my dear, is a secret."

Without any time for explanation, Merlin disappeared from the cave, leaving a very confused and slightly irritated Nimue. Thankfully, her irritation became overwhelmed by the confusion once she caught sight of a rather burned, damp rug in the room.

-----

Thanks to the lightness, Harry found it immensely easy to force his luggage into the compartment. He sat down in his seat, absorbing everything his senses picked up, from the sound of the train gliding quickly through the rails the sight of the sunlight beaming down through the window. He watched as the outside passed him by with great speed, the emeralds and azures of the outside world melting together through the scope of the window.

"Excuse me, do you mind? Every where else is full."

Harry looked back to see Ron, the boy from the station. The Boy Who Lived smiled.

"Not at all!"

Ron nodded and sat across from the smiling Harry Potter.

"So, um, I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

Harry extended his hand for a handshake.

"Harry Potter."

A look of awe immediately plastered itself over Ron's initial look of timidity. As Ron shook his hand, he continued to gape at Harry. "So it's true then! Does that mean you have...you have the..."

It took a moment for Harry to realize what Ron could possibly be referring to. Releasing his hand from the handshake, he brushed the right side of his messy black hair back, revealing the infamous lightning-shaped scar.

Ron continued to look dumbstruck. "Wicked."

Harry snickered. "You're telling me."

"Anything off the trolley?"

Both boys turned their heads towards the doorway. Their eyes collectively widened at the sight of a vending cart full of candy. A cornucopia of colors, shapes, and scents assaulted the two boys. Ron's face crashed into sullenness as he remembered his lack of funds for such treats. Unhampered by such limitations, Harry stared at the candy cart with a smile. New experiences, indeed.

"I'll take one of everything."

Ron turned up and looked at Harry, eyes bulging at the immensity of the order.

Harry turned to meet Ron's gaze and, forgoing the virtue of frugality his mentor promoted, turned to the cart vendor.

"You know what? I think I'll just take the whole lot."

-----

"Oh, Merlin's beard, I'm going to be sick."

Harry didn't know whether or not to feel pity for his new friend's plight, amused at the mention of his teacher's name, or nauseated by the sheer volume of Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pastries and Bernie Bott's Every Flavor Beans they just consumed. In retrospect, the fact that they consumed every possible flavor without fail, from boogers to chili pepper, may have contributed to the nausea.

Harry began rifling through the Chocolate Frog cards. He was fascinated by the use of magic on the cards. Sure, it wasn't the kind of magic that caused the earth to swallow monsters whole, but it was still impressive to Harry, and far more amusing.

Ron groaned a little. "I've got about 500 of those cards myself."

Harry smirked as he looked at the card in his hand. It was of Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of his new school. It was amusing to see Dumbledore actually leave the frame of the card, and interesting to read about Flamel, the alchemist whom Harry remembered as being responsible for the Philosopher's Stone (or Sorcerer's Stone, depending on who you ask).

Ron noticed the Dumbledore card. "I have about 6 of those myself."

Harry smirked. "Do they have a Merlin card?"

-----

Far above the train flew perhaps one of the most beautiful birds that ever lived. The fact that it was immense in size and had a passenger aboard its back went unnoticed to the rare few who saw it fly overhead.

"Don't fly too close to the train, Zephyr. We're simply following it to get to Hogwarts, nothing more"

Zephyr, unable to look at his master, simply cawed.

Merlin looked down at the giant bird he was riding. "What? I'm not being overprotective. No, not at all. Overprotective is certainly not on the agenda."

Zephyr cawed once again.

"I'm just looking out for Harry's interests, that's all. Nothing more. Just making sure he's in good hands, Zephyr. Good hands."

More cawing.

"I'm not SPYING on Harry. Spying requires constant surveillance. I'm just going to ensure that he can get in touch of me, in case he, you know, ever needs me."

Another caw.

"Of course I know he can take care of himself. I'm not worried about that. No, not at all. He's perfectly capable of handling himself. Perfectly capable."

A louder caw.

"I AM letting him go! I agreed to let him go to boarding school, didn't I? It's not like I changed my mind and suddenly want to take him back! I just need to make a quick visit there, that's all."

Yes, more cawing.

"Oh, just fly me there already! I don't need parenting advice from a giant bird."

A prolonged caw.

"Really? 6 of them?"

One more caw!

"No, you're right, eventually you do have to let them fly by th-STOP GIVING ME ADVICE!"

-----

"This...is Scabbers."

Harry looked at the rat peculiarly.

"Pathetic, isn't he?"

Ron pulled out his pet rat to entertain his new friend. The way Harry looked at the rat, entertainment was certainly not provided.

Harry focused deeply on the rat. There was a strange magical signature on Scabbers that he did not think was natural of pet rats. He focused hard on the creature, attempting to penetrate its veil with his mind's eye.

Surprising them both, the rat freaked out and promptly bolted out of the carriage.

"Bloody...! Fred game me a spell that would turn him yellow too! I wanted to show you."

Harry looked towards the direction that Scabbers left. He could not immediately identify what was wrong with the rat, but seeing as how the creature fled before he could probably examine it, Harry relinquished uncovering the mystery in exchange for talking to Ron.

Still, the feeling was there.

Shrugging it off, he turned to his new friend. "I'd suggest just letting that thing go."

Ron looked surprised. "What? I can't just do that...it's a family pet!"

Harry relaxed in his seat. "Then it'll come back to the family when it's ready. Just...just trust me, don't make too big of a deal about Scabbers running away."

Ron nodded his agreement, not just to Harry's suggestion, but at the very least so he didn't have to keep a pet rat around anymore.

"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville has one."

Amused at the theme of voices simply coming and going, Harry and Ron turned to address their visitor. In their sights stood a girl with bushy brown hair and front teeth a little too big. She held a book in her arms, which instantly brought a smile to Harry's face.

Ron shook his head. "Nope, no toads around here."

The girl scrunched her face in thought. "Well then, thanks for your help."

"What book is that?"

Both Ron and the girl looked at Harry, who seemed interested in the book at hand.

The girl looked down at the large tome in her arms. "Oh, it's called 'Hogwarts: A History'"

Harry smirked. "Good book, a bit dry, but nonetheless insightful."

The girl's eyes widened at the assessment. "Really? I thought so too, well, except for the dry part, I find it all very fascinating, especially the accounts made during wartime!"

Ron rolled his eyes. Harry, however, found the discovery of someone who enjoyed reading to be delightful. Given the fact that most of his life was spent studying tomes on magic, the thought of actually discussing it with somebody his own age made his eyes twinkle.

"I'll concede the point about wartime, but honestly, it does tend to get dry, particularly on the details about the Founders, which I thought would make a fascinating read."

The bushy-haired girl sat down immediately, the thoughts of finding toads forgotten for the moment. "I thought so too! I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger. There was this chapter on the Founders though that I thought was particularly useful for in-depth details on their origins..."

Ron groaned. It was going to be a looong train ride.

-----

Giant birds, it seems, travel faster than trains. Amidst the setting sun, Merlin and Zephyr crossed the glittered waters surrounding Hogwarts, gliding on a current of wind over the school. They approached it warily, making sure to be far enough to appear simply as another bird but close enough to see inside each window with relative ease.

Merlin stared at the castle in contemplation. "Mmm...just as I thought. Protective seals all over the place. Safe from most frontal assaults and standard magical attacks. Apparition is completely blocked off, which means long-range teleportation would not have worked. I suspected as much."

Zephyr cawed as his master.

"Long-range, Zephyr. Concentrated teleportation, in a short distance and with complete focus on where you're going, however, can bypass such protections."

Zephyr nodded, or at least made a motion resembling nodding. He was a bird, after all.

"Mmm, don't worry about it. I know what I'm doing...just fly me in close, old friend. I need to find a certain magical signature, then you can be on your way."

-----

"First years this way, please! First years, don't be shy. Come on now, hurry up!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shuffled through the crowds as the First Years exited the train in a rather unorderly pile.

Rubeus Hagrid continued to ring his bell, vainly attempting to maintain some semblance of order amidst the 11-year-olds. He squinted when he caught a mess of jet-black hair and silver spectacles rushing through the crowd. "Harry?"

Hagrid stared in astonishment as the Boy Who Lived, the boy he allowed to be stolen, ran past him. Before his shock could register into pure elation, Harry rushed through the crowds, eager to reach the head of the line and move one step closer to Hogwarts.

-----

"No, no, that probably won't do..."

Albus Dumbledore crossed out yet another sentence from his parchment. Every year he addressed the new class of Hogwarts with a new speech, and he wanted this year's to be as unique as all the others. The oxymoron aside, it was not the speech that made Dumbledore fidget, but rather, the knowledge that a certain Boy Who Lived would be in attendance.

The old headmaster contained his excitement well, and once again returned to his work, popping a Bernie Bott Bean into his mouth. His mouth twisted in disgust as the taste of sushi entered his mouth.

And then he felt it.

A rush of magic caused goosebumps all over the Dumbledore. His eyes widened, shock actually setting in for the first time in many years. He slowly lifted his eyes from his parchment.

There, standing in front of the old headmaster, stood a young man possessing an aura of intimidating magical power. For a record-setting second time in a week, Albus Dumbledore was in complete surprise.

Merlin smiled. "Hello, Professor. Or should I address you as Headmaster?"

-----

For Harry Potter, no amount of reading or preparation could deter the sight. He sat, his robes new and fresh on his person, with the boat lit only by lantern, as it waded itself through the murkey waters. He squinted hard as he attempted to find it before anybody else did, and solely through the luck of simply being the Boy Who Lived, he found it first.

Beyond the horizon, it stood there, a sentinel of glittering lights and skyscraping monuments amidst a misty sea of darkness. A castle as fantastic as the ones he used to dream of when reading of his teacher's exploits during the Age of Magic, the times of Arthur and Camelot and wizards throughout the land. The feeling of hundreds of magic auras flittered toward Harry's mind, his senses absorbing every sight and sound available as the small boat approached its destination.

The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

-----

NEXT TIME: Sorting Song

-----

Author's Note:

I owe all of you an apology.  
For the longest time, I wanted to write. That time has yet to end.  
But instead of writing, I found myself getting dragged along by life, with so many other distractions and passions and dedications around me.  
But I never abandonned this story in the sense of ever quitting. I abadonned it in the sense of being too afraid to write.  
I have all these ideas in my head that I feel I will never do justice to them. That isn't to say that I think I'm brilliant or anything...I just don't know if I'm worth the 200-odd reviews of positive affirmations you've all given me. And yet, those are what compelled me to keep trying, even though I'm deathly afraid of failing...not necessarily to you the reader, but to the story itself, and the beauty of human complexity even in the face of such fantastic settings and premises.  
For that, I'm sorry.

With that out of the way...what I would like to do is get at least a chapter a month done despite my busy work schedule, and at least 40 kbs per chapter. My major problem is that I work best (if at all) under pressure...all these chapters were written very late at night, and all my creative writing only gets done when my professor sets a deadline for my sake in my writing workshops (yes, it's that bad). Anybody interested in helping me out can IM me at SeraphZero00 (rare) or email me at for a job...details to be announced. All I ask is that you send me a small list of your favorite stories so I can read them and get a feel for whether or not your style/taste/criticism would be constructive for me. I appreciate anybody who'd be up for the task.

And once again, thank you for the reviews. A writer should never function because he/she gets so many reviews, but the honest truth is, the 200+ ones I received caused enough guilt for me to deal with my low self-esteem continue this thing. I love writing, but it causes endless heartburn for a guy who's not that good with words.

Thank you all for reading...let's hope the next chapter gets done in under a year. :-P

P.S. Keep in mind that everytime I update with a new chapter, I probably went back and cleaned up all the other chapters as well. Nothing significant...just some minor detail corrections, grammar mistakes, etc., but still worth noting for those of you who are like me and like to save stories on hard drive for those late nights.

Email: AIM: SeraphZero00 


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